Masters of Their Fate
by LAXgirl
Summary: In the wake of the quantum surge, a shocking secret of Dinobot's is revealed. Forced to see his comrade in a completely different light, Rattrap must work out his confused feelings before time runs out and outside forces interfere. Fem!Dinobot
1. Out of the Wreckage

This is my first Beast Wars fic. I only recently rediscovered this ol' childhood favorite of mine and on a whim decided to flesh out this crazy plot idea that happened to pop into my head a few days ago. Enjoy.

_Warning_: Will be eventual Dinotrap, with Shakespearean quotes sprinkled liberally throughout.

_Disclaimer_: Beast Wars and all associated characters are not mine, nor are they being used for profit in the telling of this story.

**Chapter One****: Out of the Wreckage**

The first thing to register in Rattrap's processor as he came back online was that this definitely wasn't turning out to be a good day. He should have known something bad was going to happen when Primal decided to pilot a referbished stasis pod to the alien moon in attempt to destroy it. He also knew he should have recognized that sinking feeling of doom in his coolant tank when Megatron hacked into said stasis pod and disabled the hatch locks so Optimus couldn't escape. And he _definitely _should have known the slag was going to hit the proverbial fan when aforementioned alien moon exploded and sent a massive wave to quantum energy speeding towards the planet's surface.

Speaking of which…

With a rumbled groan, Rattrap forced himself to his hands and knees. A large, twisted strut - the remains of one of the _Axalon_'s main bridge supports - became dislodged and tumbled down the small mountain of debris that had fallen on the Maximal spy. Straightening, Rattrap shakily waded out of the wreckage - a slightly difficult task considering his smaller-than-average size and still dazed processing unit. Standing in the middle of what once was the _Axalon_'s bridge, he surveyed the damage.

From what he could see in the flickering glow of the ship's emergency lights, the _Axalon_ was completely trashed. Girders, light fixtures, metal struts and half-melted sections of mesh decking lay everywhere. Two of the bridge's three main computer consoles were completely shattered. Loose wires hung from the ceiling in tangled bundles, like some kind of weird parody of cyber-organic spider webs. Electricity crackled at their ends and sent plumes of brilliant white sparks falling to the floor. The bridge's massive hologram table had been ripped clean off the floor and sent flying into the far wall.

As Rattrap took in the disastrous scene, he caught the sound of shifting debris as his fellow Maximals began to emerge as well. Airazor and Tigatron were the first to free themselves from the wreckage.

"Ya guys okay?" Rattrap called. Half the bridge's lights had been knocked out, but through the murky gloom that remained Rattrap thought the two looked just as trashed as he felt.

"I've been better," Airazor's groaned.

"Seconded," Tigatron agreed. A large gash crossed the cyber-cat's upper bicep. A steady trickle of silvery blue mech-fluid seeped from it.

The crash of more movement sounded from the other side of the bridge. Rhinox shoved aside a piece of wreckage that would have squashed any other Maximal flat as a rewrite-disk from overtop him and pushed himself to his feet.

"Ya okay, Big Guy?" Rattrap called.

"I'd rather not comment," the engineer darkly murmured.

"Ugh, did anyone get the number of that wrecking ball?" Cheetor's voice whined from beneath a section of paneling near Rhinox. With a grumbled sigh, Rhinox bent down and heaved the pile off his buried comrade.

"Thanks, Rhinox, " Cheetor said as he pulled his overlong legs underneath him and stood.

"Don't mention it-" The gentle giant abruptly fell silent as he got a good look of the younger Maximal. His optics noticeably widened and his jaw plate dropped in an almost comical look of shock.

Rattrap strained his optics in the weak lighting to make out what had caught his friend's attention, and nearly choked on his own glossa when he did.

"What?" Cheetor demanded, shifting uneasily under Rhinox's gaze. He looked around the bridge at the others. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Your body," Rhinox murmured, openly staring. "It's… transformed."

"Cheese an' crackers, kid, wha' da heck did ya do ta yerself?" Rattrap exclaimed.

Cheetor quickly looked down to examine himself and only then seemed to notice the shiny new metallic plating covering his reformatted body. "What the-?"

Behind Rattrap Airazor gave a startled gasp. "Primus, Rattrap, you too!"

The Maximal spy didn't even notice all the others' optic units swivel around to stare at him, for he was too busy staring down at himself. Just like Cheetor, his body had been completely transformed. Into what, he still wasn't quite sure. Raising both hands in front of him and turning them over and back in shell-shocked fascination, Rattrap stared at his new transmetal superstructure. His now reinforced armguards gleamed an alien metallic sheen in the dim emergency lights.

"By the Matrix," Tigatron whispered as he came up beside Rattrap and stared. "What happened to you two?" Airazor followed close behind and soon all five Maximals were gathered in a loose circle, staring at their transformed comrades.

"I don' know but ya gotta admit it's a cool new look," Rattrap said, unable to keep a note of self-satisfied awe out of his voice.

Rhinox leaned closer, and with one large finger gently tapped Rattrap's new superstructure. "Must have been because of that quantum surge," he said, openly intrigued. "You and Cheetor must have been caught in the surge's main wash, which mutated your superstructures into this. Very interesting."

"Awesome, I'd say," Cheetor purred as he admired his new body in the reflection of a nearby coolant tank. He angled and posed himself several different ways before excitedly turning back towards the others. "Do you think anyone else was transformed by the surge? I mean like Megatron and the other Preds? Or-" He abruptly trailed off, as if suddenly realizing something. "Hey…" He looked around the demolished bridge. "Where's Dinobot?"

An unexplainable chill shot through Rattrap's circuits, as if all his cooling fluid had just crystallized to ice.

An alarmed murmur rippled through the ragtag group of Maximals. Simultaneous they all swung away from each other and scattered in different directions to search for their missing crewmate. Rattrap threw himself at the nearest pile of debris and began to dig. He was only partially aware of the others shifting through their own piles of wreckage behind him. No longer did anything else that had happened in the last few deca-cycles - Megatron's latest attempt to kill them, the quantum surge, his and Cheetor's new bodies - register anywhere in the spy's central processor. All that occupied his frantic, scattered thoughts was the need to find their missing comrade.

_Slaggin' saurian_, Rattrap cursed as he pulled aside the remains of a shattered lighting unit. _I swear ta Primus if ya've gone an' gotten yourself vaped by something as stupid as a measly quantum surge I'm gonna find a way ta drag yer sorry, stinkin' aft all the way back from the Pit just so I can turn around an' send ya right back dere myself!_

Despite the threats, Rattrap dug faster. It was no secret that he and Dinobot had never been the closest teammates. When the ex-Predacon had first joined their ranks, Rattrap and he had spent the majority of their time together being nano-kliks from tearing each others throats out. It had only been recently, within the last few months, as Optimus paired them together more and more frequently for scouting or recon missions that Rattrap had begun to develop a sort of… understanding with the warrior.

No longer were their verbal sparring matches meant to harm or offend the other. If anything, they had begun to take on a more friendly, bantering feel. The day just didn't feel complete unless Dinobot made some snide comment about his size or smell and Rattrap shot back with some commentary of his own - usually something about the larger mech's old associates or unsettling attraction for sharp metal objects.

As much as Rattrap didn't want to admit it, he'd come to see Dinobot as an ally and, yes, maybe even as a _friend_ if one was being very liberal with the word. Not that he'd ever admit that to any 'bot living or dead, mind you. If anyone ever outright asked him about it, he'd blast the poor son-of-a-Decepticon into the next lunar-cycle.

_Frag it all if dat no good blender fer a mouth got scrapped, _Rattrap fumed as he dug. _I wanted ta show off ma new body. Wouldn' that of just steamed ol' Scalebelly's circuits?_

For several deca-kliks of unbearable silence, they continued to shift through wreckage with no sign of their missing friend. Although no one said a word, Rattrap could feel the tension rising with each passing moment. Finally, just when he was about to let his more pessimistic thoughts take hold, Rattrap heard a triumphant shout from the other side of the bridge.

"I found him!" Cheetor cried as he tipped a large cross-beam away from a section of debris. Rhinox and Tigatron were quickly by his side and together all three started digging. Rattrap hurried over to help and caught a glimpse of scuffed bronze and blue plating between the other three mechs' bodies. Why wasn't Dinobot getting up yet? Usually the warrior was one of the first ones to pull himself together and emerge after an attack. Was he injured? Had he been knocked offline? Had the quantum surge transmutated him like it'd done Rattrap and Cheetor, or had it done something worst?

Just as Rattrap reached the group and was about to throw himself into the fray to help, Dinobot gave a muffled hiss of pain and began to slowly push himself off the ground. Rattrap chose to ignore the surge of relief as the saurian stood, online and very much alive. The warrior looked like he'd just survived several rounds with a trash compactor and lost. Dinobot staggered slightly as he stood, causing Rattrap's spark-box to twinge with a surge of concern. Rattrap forced himself to shake the feeling away. He didn't want to dwell on what such feelings might mean in concern with his and Dinobot's tenuous friendship.

"Be careful," Tigatron cautioned as Dinobot tried to untangle himself from the wreckage. The warrior gave a disgruntled snarl and ignored the proffered hand Tigatron held out to him.

"I am fine," he growled.

Rhinox ignored the raptor's self-diagnosis. "I don't think I'd be too quick to say that," he deadpanned, and pointed at Dinobot's lower torso and chest.

Rattrap followed the engineer's gaze. For several nano-kliks he thought his optics were somehow malfunctioning. But when it became apparent the sight wasn't going to change no matter how many times he blinked, the spy had to force his central processor to compute what he was seeing; and even then he still wasn't sure what to make of it.

In several places across Dinobot's chest and shoulders, his superstructure was partially melted or gouged with deep scorch marks - probably from where some super-heated piece of machinery fell on him during the explosion. One section of plating that spanned the majority of his lower right ribcage was actually missing, as if it'd been torn from the warrior's body by some giant crowbar. Under normal circumstances, this wouldn't have been so shocking a sight. Immediate medical attention would have been necessary for the bot in question if he was to survive his injuries, for sure. But where loose wires, fried circuitry and torn fuel pumps should have been hanging out of the gapping holes in Dinobot's superstructure, as Rattrap would have expected, there was nothing.

Nothing. As in no wires, no fried circuit boards, no potentially fatal energon loss. Because between the torn edges of Dinobot's superstructure Rattrap could see the dull gleam of metallic blue and bronze plating that almost appeared to be a _secondary_ superstructure hiding underneath what should have been the warrior's only one.

Unable to think of a plausible explanation for such an bizarre sight, Rattrap's usually sharp tongue was rendered completely speechless and the Maximal spy was forced to do nothing more than stare at the warrior.

Dinobot looked down to examine himself and let out a strangled hiss that might have actually been a curse in some Predacon dialect. He quickly tried to cover the largest section of missing plating with his hand, but the damage was already done. Everyone else had already seen.

"What the-?" Rhinox leaned closer to examine Dinobot's side. "Is that a second frame?"

"No," Dinobot snarled, angrily swatting the broader mech away. "It is none of your concern." Despite the warrior's usual gruff, Rattrap couldn't help but notice the way Dinobot nervously turned the more damaged side of his body away from Rhinox, as if physically trying to shield it from the psudo-medic's gaze. Or the way he refused to look and meet anyone else's optics. Or the way one hand remained self-consciously pressed to his side.

"What in Prime's name is going on?" Rhinox demanded, taking a step towards the evasive raptor. "I don't know what you're hiding, Dinobot, but if it's something that could compromise our mission in any way, then we need to know about it. I'm not going to let this drop, so you might as well start telling us what the frag is going on."

Dinobot growled through his teeth, glaring darkly at Rhinox. But then with a resigned sigh that seemed to originate from the very center of his core, Dinobot let the one hand that was futilely trying to cover his torso drop to his side. He looked away from the group of confused Maximals and stared into the distance.

"Mechs at some times are masters of their fate, whose futures are not written in the stars…" he murmured in a voice almost too low for Rattrap's audio sensors to detect. Rattrap couldn't be sure, but he thought it sounded like a line from some ancient poetry. "Fate, however, proves vengeful. And what is the unkindest cut off all is that I should be discovered now of all times after everything else I have survived…"

"Dinobot, what's going on?" Cheetor pleaded. Confusion warped his facial plates. Obviously seeing one of the strongest members of their group so unnerved - and for still unknown reasons - was having negative effects on the impressionable youth. "If something's wrong, tell us what it is and we'll help you. That's what Maximals do! And you're one of us now, so you've got to tell us!"

"It is not that simple…" Dinobot muttered, still half-lost in whatever thoughts haunted him.

Then, as if coming to a final decision, Dinobot abruptly wheeled around to face his fellow Maximals, his shoulders squared and head held high - like a mech determined to walk to his termination with his pride firmly in place.

"Computer," he called, keying his inner programming, "access reformat code HR-253, voice code Dinobot. Override security firewall and disable external fascia locks. Return vocal processing to original setting."

There was a long, low hum as Dinobot's optics dimmed and his body sagged as his internal computer powered down to process his commands. There was a flurry of internal clicks and chirps before another long hum sounded, signaling Dinobot's return online. Before anyone could ask what was going on, a series of loud, high-pressured hisses sounded down the length of Dinobot's body. Tiny jets of steam shot out between the edges of each of Dinobot's joints as a series of high-powered hydraulic locks released. Face, neck, shoulders, elbows, chest, torso, hips, knees and ankles all followed in sequential order from head to toe. Cheetor and Rhinox leapt back to avoid being hit by pressurized air.

Rattrap watched in stunned silence as the ex-Predacon he'd come to see as a comrade literally come apart at the joints. Like a giant, three-dimensional jigsaw puzzle, the warrior's armor plating separated off his core structure several centimeters. Ignoring the stunned expressions of his audience, Dinobot wordlessly reached up under his left shoulder guard and gripped the edge of his plating. Sneaking a claw under the joint to un-snick the final clasp holding it in place, he pushed the whole bulk of it away while simultaneously pulling his arm up through it, like a human shrugging off an overlarge jacket. From where the warrior's shoulder met his chest all the way to his wrist, Dinobot slipped the armored plating of his root form down what appeared to be a smaller arm hiding in the sleeve of his outer superstructure. Finally pushing the armor free of his wrist, the hollow limb hit the mesh decking of the bridge with a heavy clunk.

Moving as if in a disassociated trance, Dinobot continued to pull at the loosened edges of his superstructure and drop them to the floor in a growing pile of lifeless, raptor-striped plating.

Rattrap could only stand and watch in stunned silence as the large warrior mech seemed to shrink before his very optics. Like a snake shedding its skin, Dinobot continued to strip off his superstructure until a slightly smaller, less hulking root form began to emerge from underneath.

Unfastening two clasps on either side of his knee, Dinobot shook the last piece of armored plating from his leg and slowly stood straight to face the others. With deliberate slowness, he reached up and took hold of the underside of his jaw plate. Then, with one quick tug, like with the rest of his body, he pulled it free from the superstructure beneath. The whole mass of delicate facial plates came off in the warrior's hand, like some kind of a mask. Tossing it aside, the raptor took one step forward out of the disassembled shell of his former self. Then, rearing up to full height, the warrior stared down his fellow Maximals, optics burning bright with challenge.

For several moments of intense silence no one said a thing. Rattrap was pretty sure none of them would have been physically able to produce a sound at that moment even if they had wanted to. He was not proud to admit it, but he was pretty certain his jaw plate was hanging open several inches wider than normal protocol would have deemed appropriate. It didn't look like anyone was going to chide him for it, however, since everyone else was having the exact same problem. Rattrap was sure it was the first time he'd ever seen Tigatron's optics quite so bug-eyed or Rhinox openly flabergasted.

It would have been funny if the whole situation wasn't so disturbingly strange.

Dinobot stood straight and tall, body stiff as if ready for a fight. But it was a body Rattrap now only partially recognized. Polished gold plating covered of Dinobot's legs and arms while face, neck and torso were the same metallic arctic-blue as before. Bone-like ribbing still ran the length of his spine and limbs, and circled his torso and chest in a ribcage-like design. In the places where his beast form's exoskin covered his armor were the crisscrossed pattern of tan and brown raptor stripes, exactly like his old formatting's.

But that was where the similarities ended.

Where the warrior had once been broad and thickly armored like a walking wall, he was now more compact, though still as solid as before. If Rattrap had been in full control of his mental facilities, he might have made a joke that Dinobot was now merely a walking seige door. Most of Dinobot's muscular bulk was gone - laying in scattered pieces on the floor. His shoulders most notably - once too large to fit through most of the Axalon's doorframes straight-on - now had a narrower frame construct. Despite this sudden change, his arms and back still retained enough tension cables to promise untold amounts of pain to any enemy the towering warrior might meet in battle. His once thick metal torso was narrower, especially at the waist where, several inches lower, hip plates fanned out in a generous curve down to powerfully built raptor-striped thighs. Lower still, where Dinobot had once sported thickly armored pede plates his feet were now more reminiscent of his beast-mode's clawed appendages. Deadly looking eight-inch talons curved up from the side of Dinobot's insteps, framed by a smaller set of claws on either side.

But probably most unnerving of all - if all that wasn't too much for Rattrap's overheated processor to compute already - was Dinobot's face. Where the warrior's facial plates had once been all harsh angles and pointed nasal ridge was now smoother and slightly more… refined, for lack of a better word. It was as if someone had taken a buffer to the saurian's face and smoothed down the worse of its hardened edges.

"Well?" Dinobot said, voice full of impatient demand. Again Rattrap wondered if he wasn't caught in some CR tank-induced dream. Because the voice that issued from Dinobot's mouth was not the hissed rumble of syllables he'd become so accustomed to hearing; but rather a smoother, higher-pitched version of it - like the sound of sharpened steel scraping over silk.

It was then that Rattrap finally allowed himself to accept the improbability of everything he was seeing - the pure incredulity of it!

Dinobot, battle-hardened ex-Predacon-turned-Maximal warrior, was really a femme.

* * *

Should I continue? Feedback will prompt the speedy production of a second chapter.

PLEASE REVIEW!

_Author's Note_: If anyone is worried about Dinobot suddenly becoming all lovey-dovey and girly now because of this latest turn of events, have no fear. To help cement a clearer mental image of Dinobot's new persona, I want you to picture her as Terminator meets Xena: Warrior Princess. Basically: badass lady robot.

I'm not sure how it came across in the text, but I wanted the scene where Dinobot was stripping her fake superstructure off to be extremely shocking to the other Maximals. I can't help but think such a sight would have had the same shock value as when Arnold in 'Terminator 2' took a pair of boxcutters and peeled the skin off his robotic hand.

-LAXgirl


	2. In the Know

**Chapter Two: In the Know**

Rattrap sat in his personal quarters, his movements as dull and lifeless as if he were an automaton. The worktable in front of him was covered with miscellaneous pieces of wire, empty casing units, circuitry boards and soldering tools. A half-assembled detonator lay like a dissected lab animal in front of him, but he barely even saw it. His hands moved in slow practiced movements, the result of decades of practice which had honed his skills into a sort of second nature. The demolition expert's optics were as unfocused and distant as his mind - an arguably dangerous risk considering the highly sensitive, highly _explosive_ material he was working with.

But Rattrap's processor was too busy trying to compute other things at the moment to worry about such trivial things like accidentally blowing himself up. And there were quite a few things currently on his mind…

It had been two days since the alien moon's explosion and the quantum energy surge. Two days since Rattrap had come back online and found his and Cheetor's superstructures mysterious transformed into these transmetal bodies. And two days since Optimus had returned from the supposed dead - also sporting a new transmetal superstructure - and retaken leadership of the Maximals. But none of that, as thought-provoking as any of that might have been, was what occupied the majority of the spy's thoughts.

No. What was currently on Rattrap's mind were the latest developments concerning the surly ex-Predacon of their merry little band of explorers.

Even now, two days afterwards, Rattrap still couldn't seem to wrap his processor around the idea that Dinobot - the bad-tempered Predacon warrior he'd reluctantly come to see as a friend - was really a femme.

How was such a thing possible? Dinobot was one of the burliest mechs he knew. For the love of Prime, he'd seen the warrior actually tear an enemy apart with his bare hands once. And now, without any kind of warning to give Rattrap a chance to keep his circuits from being fried to a carbon crisp, they were all suppose to suddenly accept the fact that the blood-thirsty saurian was actually a member of the opposite programming.

From what he could remember of that blurred stretch of time immediately after Dinobot's shocking revelation, the raptor's personality hadn't changed much. Not at all if truth be told. It was just that hearing Dinobot's usual snarls and threats come from the mouth of a raptor-formatted femme was a little disconcerting.

Rattrap still struggled with the haze of disbelief that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in his processor. If it hadn't been for Rhinox's level-headedness Rattrap was pretty sure none of them would have gotten any kind of explanation from the raptor for her subterfuge. How the engineer was able to stay so calm - especially after watching one of their group literally disassemble himself in front of them and reveal himself to really be a femme - was beyond Rattrap's understanding.

He could still hear Rhinox's voice in the back of his mind shattering the shocked silence of the _Axalon_'s main bridge that day…

"You mind telling us what the _slag_ is going on?"

Except for the slight narrowing of optics, no change came to the warrioress's face as she stared down the end of her nose at the flustered mech. "The reasons behind my subterfuge are none of your concern," she growled. She bared her dentals in a sneer. "You Maximals will never be able to understand any explanation I can give you."

"B-but, but you… you're a _femme_!" Cheetor exclaimed, his optics the size of serving platters. For several nano-clicks he seemed unable to articulate anything else through the useless opening and closing of his jaw plate before he finally seemed to pull his fried circuits together enough to stammer, "Wha-? I mean, _how_? _Why_? Have you really been a femme this entire time?"

"Of course I have," Dinobot snarled, a note of defensive pride seeping into her voice. "I had my superstructure overhauled and refitted with an artificial mech superstructure more than two decades ago."

"But why?" Cheetor asked in a dazed voice, as if he were in physical pain trying to process all this information.

Dinobot's reformatted facial plates bunched together in a hostile expression. "As I already informed Rhinox, I will not explain myself to the likes of you. My reasons are my own." The last few words were hissed through her dentals as if daring Cheetor to question her more.

"I beg to disagree," Rhinox said, taking a step towards the raptor. Despite Dinobot's slightly slimmer frame, she was still half a head taller than the thicker built engineer, and a good head and a half taller than the next tallest Maximal. Rhinox, however, did not seem intimidated by this height difference any more now than he did before when Dinobot was still a mech, and sternly stared up into the warrioress's optics.

"You've been masquerading as a mech for longer than any of us have known you, Dinobot. Forgive us if we want to know why. This is not something we can just overlook and pretend didn't happen. We know your secret now. We trust you in battle with our lives. It is only fair that you show us a little of that same trust now and give us a chance to understand why you've been keeping this from us."

Rattrap had to marvel at the simplicity of Rhinox's approach: appealing to Dinobot's sense of honor and complex ideals of give-and-take. It was arguably a little manipulative, but probably the fastest and easiest way to get Dinobot to cooperate without challenging the warrior to open combat. It seemed to have the desired effect, because with a reluctant huff of defeat Dinobot relaxed her battle stance and half turned away from the group. Staring at some undefined point of space in the distance, she took a moment to collect her thoughts.

"As you wish," she finally murmured, turning back to face them. "But I still do not expect you to fully understand the circumstances that led me to make such a decision."

"Try us," Rhinox insisted.

Rattrap, still caught in the grips of a dream-like sense of surreality, didn't miss the note of challenge in Rhinox's voice. It was a sure fire way to goad the saurian warrior into talking.

The upper corner of Dinobot's lip curled in a irritated snarl, but she nevertheless took the bait. Mech or femme, the ex-Predacon never backed down from a fight. "In case none of you have noticed," she hissed as she swept her optics around the small semi-circle of Maximals, "there is a serious level of discrimination against femmes on our planet -within Predacon and Maximal societies alike. We are a minority - less than forty percent of Cybertron's total population - and thus are usually pushed to the edges of almost every functioning social organization. Everywhere, but most notably in the military and government, femmes are delegated to the lowest and least important posts. We are given few rights and little power, with little to no opportunity to rise within the hierarchy. This is present in both of Cybertron's factions, but it is even worse in Predacon society."

Dinobot abruptly swung a quarter-way away from the entranced group of Maximals and began to angrily pace, as if warming up to the idea of venting some of her grievances. "Do you have any idea what it is like within Predacon society for a femme to rise to a status that holds any true measure of power? Near impossible!" she spat in answer to her own question. The scythe-like raptor claws on her feet made angry rapping sounds against the decking as she moved. "We are never delegated power or authority, even when we prove ourselves better than other mechs who receives such rewards only because they possess a different line of base format-programming than us. Within the military and gladiatorial circles, it is even worse. Femmes are mostly exploited or only kept within easy reach for higher-ranking mechs' own pleasure. That is why I chose to ultimately have my appearance overhauled and refitted with a mech superstructure. I wanted to actually reap the rewards of my accomplishments and skills. I was tired of being overlooked because my programming dictated that I was meant to live on the edge of Cybertronian culture because of some unwritten code of social order."

Rattrap was dismayed to note that almost everything Dinobot had said was true in some way or another. He had no way to know how Predacons treated femmes, but at least within Maximal society there was a notable difference in how many femmes were present in the upper echelons of society, be it business, government or military. Rattrap could think of no high-ranking female members in the Senate or of any on the Council of Elders. Guessing by the uncomfortable shifting of the others around him, they were also aware of the unbalanced dynamics of their race.

"But..." Airazor hesitantly spoke up, "what about Arcee during the Auto Wars? She was an integral member of the Autobots' team."

Dinobot's facial plates contorted with contempt. "She was never a commander or even given temporary leadership of the Autobots. She was only ever a cog in the wheel of Prime's war efforts. Even Elite-One, who was supposedly commander of the remaining Autobot forces on Cybertron, was nothing more than a powerless figurehead. The High Council put her in that position only to appear to the people that they were a righteous, liberal-minded cause. Despite whatever your Maximal history archives say, she had no real power during the war; I studied it. Never in Maximal or Predacon history has there ever been a true female commander or military leader."

"Things are changing though," Airazor insisted, as if desperate to disprove the other femme. "There are more femmes now in Cybertron's high councils then ever before. We _are_ gaining ground."

"It is too little change too slow in coming," Dinobot snarled. "What little victories we've won are nothing more than public showcasing. Despite whatever you say, there are still no females in the Tribunal or generals in either Predacon or Maximal military units. We are still forced to serve in positions lower than our mech counterparts."

Wheeling around to face her fellow Maximals, Dinobot found Rhinox with her optics and speared him with a glare that was only slightly less deadly than her optic lasers. "So there it is. There's your answer. _That_ is why I chose to undergo numerous rounds of painful specialized bodywork and reformatting to disguise myself as a mech. I wanted power. I wanted recognition. I wanted the chance to prove myself to be just as good as any mech without the stigma of my gender-programming to hold me back. And I have done so successfully for the last several decades until my true formatting was so ingloriously exposed just now."

Stunned silence once again descended on the bridge as everyone struggled to process everything they'd just heard. Rattrap swore he could feel his central processor beginning to overheat.

"So," Tigatron said, glancing uncertainly towards Rhinox who seemed to have unofficially become the leader of their group in Optimus' absence, "what does this mean? What happens now?"

A vicious snarl rumbled Dinobot's chest. Faster than anyone could follow with their optics, the raptor covered the distance separating her and the tiger and was suddenly standing directly in front of him, staring down into the scout's startled optics. "If you think the revelation of my true gender has changed any of my abilities as a warrior, I assure you it has not. I will gladly fight a battle to the death to prove myself if I have to."

Before any violence could break out, however, Rhinox slipped a hand in between the two and firmly pushed Dinobot back. "Stand down, Dinobot. There's not going to be any kind of fighting today." He stared into the raptor's optics, his body as solid and unyielding as a wall. "Despite whatever you might have experienced in Predacon circles, we Maximals try not to let such bigotry rule our operating procedures. Gender-programming has no bearing on our team dynamics. No one here is going to dispute your skills or discriminate you because of your programming. We're all equals here."

Dinobot gave a snort, her teeth bared in a bitter sneer. "Do not try to placate me with your empty promises. I've heard them all before, and no matter what you self-righteous Maximal mechs say about seeing femmes as their equals I have seen the reality of these fallacies play out more times than I care to admit. Even now, I can see the change in the way you look at me. No matter what you say to try and delude yourselves into believing that you treat everyone in your ranks with equality and respect, I tell you it is only a matter of time before your true sub-processes make themselves known."

A searing bolt of pain through the tip of his left index finger brought Rattrap slamming back to the present. Gritting back a colorful curse, Rattrap clutched his burnt hand to his chest and looked at the circuit board he'd just been working on. One corner of the board was charred black with a nickel-sized hole that had burned its way all the way through to the opposite side.

"Slag it…" Rattrap swore. Tossing his soldering torch aside, he snatched the now useless circuit board up and threw it with a disgusted snap of the wrist into a nearby waste bin. That was the third board he'd fried in the last twenty-four hours.

Heaving a sigh, the spy slouched in his seat, optics staring blankly into space. His head was beginning to hurt from all the thinking he'd been doing. No matter how hard he tried to distract himself, thoughts of the warrior continued to surface to the forefront of his processor, refusing to leave him in peace.

"Stinkin' saurian," he murmured under his breath. He forced himself to sit up straighter and began to listlessly put his tools away. He didn't really want to stop. Explosive assembly usually offered him several mega-cycles of mindless work. But if the growing number of burnt circuit boards in the trash were any indication, his mind just wasn't in it at the moment. If he didn't pay attention to what he was doing, the next time he let his mind wander he might just fry something a little bit more important than a detonator board.

He supposed many of his distracted thoughts were because there were still so many unanswered questions circling his processor. He and his fellow Maximals might have gotten more answers that day if it hadn't been for a sudden, unexpected attack by Megatron shortly after finding out about Dinobot's true formatting. It seemed Megatron had wanted to try and take advantage of Optimus' supposed termination, and gone to attack the _Axalon_ in hopes of catching the Maximals off guard and defenseless.

Unfortunately for the newly transmetalled megalomaniac, he'd miscalculated that the _Axalon_'s defense system had been knocked offline in the wake of the quantum surge and had been forced to retreat with nothing more that a few well-aimed laser blasts by Sentinal. It had also helped that the Predacons seemed to be missing several of their members - namely Scorponok, Tarantulas, and Blackarachnia. Whether they'd been killed in the quantum surge or just hadn't been present at the time, Rattrap didn't know. How Megatron had planned to take the _Axalon_ with his motley crew of remaining Predacons was a mystery. Sometimes Rattrap had to wonder how Megatron had remained their leader for so long with all his harebrained schemes. Whatever the case, the Maximals hadn't even needed to leave the ship to send the purple tyrant and his sorry crew packing.

_No wonder Choppa'face decided ta leave dat idiot an' join us…_

Just as quickly as the thought crossed his processor, Rattrap gave a disgusted cry and forcefully turned his attention back to stuffing his remaining tools into their case. Once again the female warrior had wormed her way into his thoughts. Rattrap was beginning to get a little disturbed by how often that was starting to be.

_It's only 'cause da stupid raptor decided ta drop such'a huge load of slag on us at one time, _he firmly told himself. _No one would'a expected someone like him… no, _HER_ ta really be a femme after all dis time. So I'm allowed ta be a lil outta sorts right now, right?_

Right.

Or at least that was what Rattrap wanted to believe, so that was what he kept telling himself. It was just a little unsettling that no one else seemed to be having trouble accepting Dinobot's new identity as he was. Even Optimus, who hadn't been present at Dinobot's public reveal, didn't seem to have any trouble processing the idea that the warrior mech they'd come to accept as one of their own had really been a femme hiding under mech armor this entire time. Granted, Optimus had been suitably shocked when he'd been told. Rattrap had figured out that it had taken exactly nine-point-six seconds for Opitmus to pull himself together and find his vocal processor again. But after that, Optimus hadn't blinked twice at Dinobot's female form.

What the slag! Was he the only one on this entire planet that still had a functioning processor to see this wasn't something to just roll over and accept?

If Rattrap was being honest with himself (which he still wasn't) he might have come to realize why he harbored so many conflicting emotions was because a part of him felt slightly betrayed by Dinobot's secret. It wasn't that he had a problem with Dinobot being a femme. What bothered him was more the fact that Dinobot had kept such an important thing hidden for so long. And not just from everyone else, but from himself.

Rattrap knew he was being irrational. The warrioress had already been masquerading as a mech for years before they'd met and joined forces. It was just that Rattrap couldn't help but feel that he and Dinobot had formed something of a bond close enough to warrant at least _some _kind of hint about her true identity. Because wasn't that what friends did? Tell each other things?

Rattrap tossed his tool case aside and leaned back in his chair with an empty sigh. He supposed he couldn't really fault the raptor for keeping such a secret close to the vest. She'd spent the majority of her adult life trying to escape the discriminations of her culture's social order. It only made sense that she wouldn't go around telling anyone who would listen about her true gender-formatting. As much as Rattrap didn't want to admit it, it _especially _made sense that she wouldn't tell some psudo-enemy Maximal spy who still took great enjoyment out of picking fights with her over any little thing that happened to cross his mind.

No, he supposed he couldn't fault Dinobot for keeping something like that about herself. But that still didn't mean Rattrap felt any less irrationally betrayed by her lack of openness.

"For the love'a Primus, I'm goin' certifiably insane," he groaned into the silence of his personal quarters.

Rattrap might have went on bemoaning the unfairness of Life and his malfunctioning processor, if Optimus' voice hadn't crackled to life over the intercom at that exact moment.

"Rattrap," Optimus called as a hologram of his face blipped into being on the far side of Rattrap's quarters. "I need you for a scouting mission to sector Delta-5. Rhinox has been getting a lot of odd readings from that area ever since the quantum surge. I want you to go check it out."

Rattrap swiveled his seat around to face the holoscreen. "Sure, Boss Monkey," he said. An unbidden smile tugged at his facial plates. This was just the kind of distraction he'd been looking for. Nothing took one's mind off things like an off-ship mission. Maybe if he was lucky he'd even get the chance to blast some Preds while he was at it. "I could use a lil' exercise outside'a da ship."

"Good," Optimus nodded. "I'm sending Dinobot along with you."

All good feelings immediately left Rattrap. "What!" he squealed, actually bolting out of his seat. "Aw, com'on, Optimus! Are ya sure dat's such'a good idea? You know how Lizard Lips an' I get along. Especially now, wha' with him really bein' a her n'all…"

"Rattrap." Optimus's voice rumbled over the intercom. There was a steely edge in his voice and his facial plates had taken on that I'm-very-disappointed-in-you look. "Despite Dinobot's new appearance, she is still the exact same bot she was before. I know it's a little shocking, but you have to set aside whatever problems you have with her. I'm not going to let something as petty as gender-formatting disrupt how my crew operates. Don't let yourself become the kind of mech she had to reformat herself to hide from."

"What?" Rattrap screeched. "It's nothin' like dat, Optimus! It's-"

"I want you to be moving out in ten minutes," Optimus harshly cut him off. "Dinobot's already waiting for you by the rear ramp." Without another word, he cut the transmission.

Silence reigned in Rattrap's room as he dumbly stared at the section of wall where the hologram of Optimus's face had been mere seconds before. Finally shaking himself out of his daze, the spy abruptly spun away from the wall and stalked back to the worktable to retrieve his gun. "Stupid ape," he seethed through clenched dentals. An intense feeling of unfairness washed over him. "What da slag does he know?"

Holstering his plasma gun, he stormed out of his quarters. He didn't see anyone else as he navigated the _Axalon_'s hallways towards the rear hatchway. He was glad he didn't come across anyone because he wasn't in the mood to try and be sociable.

_Stinkin' lizard. Not even two days as a femme and already ya got Optimus 'n half the crew wrapped 'round yer dirty lil' claws 'cause of yer sob story. I can't even call ya an ugly Pred anymore without gettin' called a narrow-processin' aft-plate. An' you said _**you** _were da one gettin' discriminated against…_

Far quicker than Rattrap would have liked, a bright square of sunlight appeared at the far end of the corridor. As he neared, the square became larger and the ship's main hatchway became visible. Standing there, just at the top of the open ramp was Dinobot, already in beast mode.

The raptor heard his approach and turned towards him with unreadable reptilian green eyes. "I'm so glad you finally decided to grace me with your presence, Vermin," she said, her new femminized voice like a whetting stone gliding over sharpened steel.

Rattrap shot a sour look at her, but otherwise didn't respond to the insult. It was still all too new to for him to rise to the bait of one of their verbal sparring matches. "Optimus only told me 'bout our lil' mission together just a few minutes ago, so can it."

A look flashed through Dinobot's eyes, but disappeared again almost too fast for Rattrap to catch. He couldn't be sure what the look had been, but for the split second he'd seen it he would have almost said it looked like… disappointment.

Ignoring the guilty flutter in his engine cylinders at the thought, he transformed into beast mode. Without a word between them, Dinobot and Rattrap headed down the ramp and into open sunlight. The ramp automatically rose behind them, sealing the ship. Silence - broken only by the distant drone of summer cicadas - enveloped them like a heavy blanket. Stealing a quick glance at his companion out of the corner of his optic, Rattrap cleared his throat in the uncomfortable silence that surrounded them. "Come on. Let's get goin' before Optimus decides ta call us on da comm link an' ask why we ain't already three kliks from here."

Dinobot gave no verbal response. Instead she sharply wheeled herself around so that her snout pointed due east and started off without even waiting to see if Rattrap followed.

Left to stare after the retreating raptor, Rattrap once again felt his engine seize with an unfamiliar emotion. What was it? Guilt? No. Why should he feel guilty? It wasn't like he'd said anything to offend the uptight saurian. He'd even backed down from starting one of their infamous verbal brawls. If anything, he should be commended for his uncharacteristic display of restraint.

But then why did he feel like he'd just done something to lower himself in the warrioress's eyes?

Unable to answer this or any other question that'd been plaguing his processor for the last two solar cycles, Rattrap folded his metallic rat legs under his chassis to replace them with his new transmetal wheels. Revving into high gear, he took off after the retreating warrioress until he caught up with Dinobot and fell into pace beside her.

For almost an hour the two traveled in absolute silence, tension shimmering like a tangible presence between them. Being careful not to be too obvert, Rattrap stole quick glances at his companion out of the corner of his optic every few klicks when he thought the raptor's gaze was turned away. Over the last two days he hadn't seen much of Dinobot. His own self-imposed isolation notwithstanding, it seemed the Predacon turncoat had tried to make herself as scarce as possible. Whether that was because of fear, embarrassment, self-consciousness or any other emotion Rattrap found just as unlikely as the next given the temperament of the battle-hardened warrioress, Dinobot might as well have been a ghost the last few days. Where she'd gone or what she'd done during that time Rattrap could only guess. All he knew for sure was that he still wasn't sure what to make of Dinobot's new appearance.

In beast mode, no real head-turning changes had come to the raptor's body. She was still roughly the same height and length, with the same tan and dark brown stripe coloring. The only difference he could really see was the noticeably narrower dimensions of her hips. Whether it was because of that simple physiological change or something else, Dinobot seemed to move with a lighter snap in her step. Her taloned feet agilely skimmed the ground, as if she were tethered to the earth only by the weight of those deadly curved blades of bone.

"Is there something amiss with my appearance that you feel you must constantly stare at me?" Dinobot's voice startled him out of his thoughts. Glancing up at his companion, Rattrap found Dinobot eyeing him. Her lips were pulled back from her teeth in an annoyed snarl.

_Slag…_

"No. Nothin's _amiss_, so ta speak," Rattrap replied, nervously looking away from Dinobot so that he didn't have to look at her as he struggled to put his thoughts into words. "I was jus' wonderin' why yer beast mode doesn't look different. I mean, when ya took off yer mech armor, yer femme superstructure still kinda looked like it did before, but I could still see da differences, ya know what I mean? But yer beast mode's barely changed. Why's dat?"

A reptilian purr - the raptor equivalent of a sigh - rumbled Dinobot's chest. "It would figure even now you Maximals are unable to see the clues I was unable to disguise when we had to reformat ourselves to survive this planet's energon surges."

At Rattrap's confused expression, she explained in a strained voice of patience, "Male velociraptors were more brightly colored than females, often times having small patches of feathers or tuffed spikes to attract mates. Females, however, were as unadorned and plainly colored as my beast mode. When I first took this form I was afraid someone would deduce the truth of my gender-programming based on that alone since the DNA scanners seem to match our genders to the same appearance as our beastial counterparts. My artificial mech armor did not fool it. Luckily, no one else seemed to notice the details of my beast mode's appearance except for me. I suppose I should count it a blessing no one chose to do any research concerning the prehistoric creatures of this planet."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Rattrap said, his wheels skidding to a halt. Dinobot shuffled to a stop several paces ahead of him and glanced back, her head cocked to the side in a reptilian gesture of question. "Ya mean ta tell me if I'd just done some research on yer beast mode's species, I would'a known ya were a femme?"

Dinobot's eyes narrowed, as though calculating what kind of reaction her answer would garner. "Yes. That is exactly what I'm saying, vermin."

For several moments Rattrap just stood there, staring at Dinobot and feeling as if his head was several nano-klicks from imploding. That was it? That was all she had to say? Basically that her secret had been staring them all right in the face this entire time and they'd just been too stupid to see it? Well, wasn't _that _just the fresh coat of paint on this entire thing. And to put a coat of wax on top of _that _the blasted femme didn't even sound sorry!

"Great. Just great," Rattrap muttered, shaking his head in disgust. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take. He suddenly felt like he needed a dose of high grade octane. All this was just too much to take in anymore. Mech? Femme? Who the frag knew anymore. As far as he knew the world was slowly falling apart at the seams. Frustrated and confused - and feeling just the slightest bit betrayed again - a spike of irrational anger surged through his neuro-circuits.

Turning away from Dinobot, the Maximal grit his dentals together. "This just goes ta show ya can never really trust anyone," he murmured, more to himself than his companion. "Especially no dang Pred."

A dangerous snarl sounded behind him and suddenly two clawed raptor feet stepped into his line of sight. "Do not try to blame your lack of processing capabilities on me, rodent," Dinobot hissed. "It's not my fault you came online with less RAM than a credit store calculator."

Rattrap instantly reared back, an insult poised on the tip of his tongue to throw at the raptor like a live grenade. But at the last nano-klick, he bit it back. He couldn't do it. It just didn't feel right. Too many things had changed since the last time he'd exchange verbal barbs with the saurian. Dinobot wasn't the same bot anymore no matter what Optimus said.

"Whatever…" he seethed, sharply turning away from the raptor. "We don't have time ta stand 'round here all day talkin'. Da boss'll want us back ta da ship before sunset, so we bett'a get goin.'" Wheeling himself around in the direction they'd originally been heading, Rattrap set off at a hurried, if not stiff pace.

His cooling vents rattled with effort as they struggled to siphon heat away from his central core. His neural lines literally vibrated with pent up tension. He wasn't used to not being able to release all that heat and energy in the form of insults and snide remarks. It wasn't until now that he'd truly felt the loss of what had become a daily ritual between himself and Dinobot.

This was going to take some time getting used to.

Before Rattrap could go too far he caught the sound of a disappoint huff behind him. Slowing to a stop he looked back over his wheel rim towards Dinobot who hadn't made any move to follow him. She was staring off to the side, her eyes narrowed to two angry slits of green.

"Hey, ya comin'?"

For a moment Dinobot didn't seem to hear and continue to angrily stare away into space.

"I should have expected as much," she finally murmured after an angry klick of silence. "I was a fool to think you Maximals would be any different."

"Wha' was dat?" Rattrap demanded, spinning himself around in a tight circle to face the female raptor again. Confrontation once again rose in his circuits.

Swinging her head around Dinobot speared Rattrap with a poisonous glare. "You heard me, you walking piece of pestilence. You and your fellow Maximals are exactly the same as any Predacon mech I've met. As soon as the truth of my gender-programming became known every one of you began to look at me differently, but you the worst of all! You won't even respond to my insults anymore."

"Well, what da slag were ya expectin' would happen?" Rattrap shot back, his voice raising several notes in pitch. "Ya suddenly decide ta tell us yer really a femme an' ya didn' think some of us might have trouble processin' dat tiny piece 'a information?"

Dinobot's lips curled back in a contemptuous sneer. "Shock, surprise, suspicion… I can understand those reactions. In fact, I expected some form of all of them. But what I was hoping not to have to experience within Primal's fold was the very reactions you've given me: contempt and disgust."

"Contempt? Da only contempt I have fer you, Lizard Lips, is fer you not tellin' any of us 'bout this sooner! What? You didn't think we were ever gonna find out? Ya might be good at lyin' and keepin' secrets but ya ain't _that_ good!"

"Oh, and you think your sub-par processor would have ever figured out the truth if that quantum surge hadn't damaged my superstructure? You couldn't even figure it out when the evidence was right there in front of your beady little eyes!"

Without realizing it, Dinobot and Rattrap began to move towards each other, their eyes locked and ready for battle until they stood right in front of each other, noses inches apart as they continued to mindless hurl insults at the other.

"Slaggin' saurian!"

"Miserable rodent!"

"Backstabbin' Pred!"

"Foul garbage-eating vermin!"

"Self-righteous lyin' femme!"

"Contemptuous bigot!"

Pausing to catch their breaths, Dinobot and Rattrap broke apart and glared at each other, tension humming in both their bodies. As the heady rush of mech fluid coursing through his audio receptors began to subside to a normal flow, Rattrap was struck by just how easily he'd fallen into the familiar exchange of insults with Dinobot without even realizing it.

Like nothing had changed…

Slightly stunned by this realization, Rattrap met Dinobot's eyes. The warrioress seemed to notice the sudden change in the spy's mood and evenly met his gaze. She offered nothing in the way of words or explanation to break the thickening aura of tension between them, but neither did she back away from it. It would have gone against every line of her warrior programming to do so.

For several seconds silence hung between them, deep and unnervingly profound in its intensity. They might have even continued staring at each if the drone of approaching jet engines didn't suddenly interrupted them. The two simultaneously leapt away from each other just in time to avoid a laser blast from above. A charred crater half a foot deep smoked in the ground where they'd been standing only a few seconds before.

"Dinobot, maximize!"

"Rattrap, maximize!"

Using the concussion wave of the blast to propel himself, Rattrap rolled across the ground and smoothly rose to his feet as he transformed into his bi-pedal mode. His blaster was instantly in his hand. He spun around to face their attackers. Dinobot was close beside him, her sword already in her hand.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you it's not a smart idea to let your guard down while you're scouting near enemy territory?" Terrorsaur's voice sang from the air. Rattrap's audios were momentarily filled with feedback as they strained to filter out the screechiness of the flier's voice.

"Stuu-pid Maxzzimalz!" Waspinator buzzed in agreement close beside the other Predacon.

"Hn," Dinobot snorted, glaring at the two fliers. "I suppose it was too much to hope that you two were reduced to slag in that quantum surge."

Terrorsaur and Waspinator both stared at Rattrap and Dinobot, their facial plates quirked in confusion.

"Who are you?" Terrorsaur called, dropping lower in the air. He took care to remain safely out of firing range. His optics narrowed as he curiously looked Dinobot up and down. "I don't recognize you. Are you from one of the stasis pods?"

Dinobot gnashed her teeth, her optics flashing an even darker shade of crimson. "It figures your circuits would be too dense to relay any information to that fried out piece of scrap metal you call a processor. This just proves I was right to leave Megatron before I was infected by any of his crew's stupidity."

Comprehension suddenly dawned on Terrorsaur and Waspinator's facial plates.

"Dinobot!" Terrorsaur screeched. His jaw plate dropped open. Rattrap's audios once again filled with a deafening burst of feedback.

Waspinator hovered midair, his head cocked curiously to the side. "Why iz lizard-bot suddenly lady-bot?" he hummed with an uncertain glance at Terrorsaur, as if the red flier could somehow answer his question.

"Is this somehow the result of the quantum surge?" Terrorsaur said. His face still noticeably strained with shock.

"No, you low-RAMed excuse for a soldier," Dinobot growled. "This is my real superstructure that was regretably exposed by the quantum surge."

Terrorsaur seemed to have difficulty processing this and merely stared at the Predacon traitor with a thunder-struck look of confusion.

Rattrap couldn't help but commiserate.

Waspinator, however, seemed to find this latest turn of events amusing. He abruptly descended until he hovered only a dozen feet off the ground. "Ha ha!" he twittered, staring Dinobot up and down. "Lady-bot dozen't look so tough now. She doezn't scare Waspinator. No more big scary musclez! She's just a mean looking femme now!"

All Rattrap had as warning for what happened next was a rumbled howl of rage from his female companion. Like a missle, Dinobot shot towards Waspinator. In five long strides she covered the distance separating them. As she came within the last few feet of him, she sprang off the ground with both legs and leapt straight up into the air. Waspinator only had a split second to realize what was happening before Dinobot was suddenly in front of him. Twisting in midair, she slashed a taloned foot at his head in a roundhouse kick. There was the sickening _schriiich _of tearing metal. As Rattrap watched in frozen shock, Waspinator's head tipped backwards off his shoulders as if in slow motion and clattered to the ground a dozen feet below. The lifeless bulk of his decapitated body followed immediately behind.

Dinobot landed in a crouch, the curved talon of her right foot glistening with silvery blue mech fluid. Spinning around in place, she speared Terrorsaur who was still hovering a safe distance above the ground with a glare that would have reduced him to melted slag if it were physically possible. "Anything else _you _would like to say on the matter?" she hissed.

Terrorsaur seemed unable to find an appropriate response and dumbly stared at the fluid-stained warrioress. Rattrap was pretty sure this was the first time he'd ever seen the flier reduced to such speechlessness. (Not that his audios were complaining…)

Finally, after several moments, Terrorsaur seemed to pull himself together. "I must say I'm rather shocked. Though with you, no one can ever be sure where you really stand."

Dinobot growled, her battle stance low and poised for action. Terrorsaur, however, didn't seem willing to engage the warrioress in open combat. Instead, he dropped out of the sky beside the dismantled remains of his comrade. Quickly grabbing the shoulder plate of Waspinator's body with one hand and an antenna of his head with the other the red flier jettisoned back into the air. Sparing the Maximals one last glance, Terrorsaur called, "I'm sure Megatron will be most intrigued by this latest bit of information."

Turning his back on them, he then shot away across the sky, the severed pieces of Waspinator's body dangling lifelessly in his grip.

Dinobot stared after him, her optics narrowed and lips pulled back in a snarl. She looked like she was seriously considering chasing after the two.

Rattrap, meanwhile, was still trying to comprehend what he'd just seen. "Slaggit all, Dino Breath, wha' in da seven Pits was dat?"

"What are you blabbering on about, rodent?" She seemed to have finally given up on the idea of pursuit and turned away from the shrinking black dots of their enemy back towards Rattrap.

"Dat jump," Rattrap said. He absentmindedly reholstered his blaster to his leg. "How's come I've never seen ya do anythin' like dat before?"

In unspoken agreement, both Maximals reverted to beast mode since there was no longer any threat that required blaster guns or swords.

"Because I was carrying too much weight before to achieve such altitude. My mech armor made up at least a third of my previous weight. With it gone, I'm once again able to utilize my legs' natural hydraulic power. Because of our reformatting when we took our beast modes, the fake superstructure happened to cover my raptor claws when I transformed to root form."

"Huh," Rattrap thoughtfully murmured. "I always kinda wondered where those claws went when ya transformed…"

Dinobot graced him with a condescending snort. "Just another example, vermin, of how you are too stupid to see the clues staring you right in the face."

Rattrap shot the warrioress one of his imfamous slag-eating grins. "Maybe. But it was hard ta really notice anythin' else when you were carryin' around dat gigantic aft before."

Dinobot glared at him in scandalized shock. "Vermin!"

Rattrap chuckled evilly. "Ah, don' worry, Choppa'face. Even though ya lost all dat bulk, ya still have a nice aft. I don' care what other mechs say 'bout there bein' too much junk in da trunk. I've always liked bigger framed ladies."

Staring at the smaller Maximal, Dinobot seemed unable to come up with an appropriate response. If Rattrap wasn't mistaken, he would have almost said he saw the faintest hint of color blossom across the raptor's cheeks. Choking back a strangled sound of disgust, Dinobot abruptly wheeled away and set off in a somewhat hurried pace in their original direction before their run-in with Terrorsaur and Waspinator.

Chuckling to himself, Rattrap revved his wheels into gear and took off after the warrioress. Maybe he could get used to this new Dinobot after all.

* * *

"H-he's a she!" Terrorsaur's voice rang through the _Darksyde_'s bridge. The sound was reminiscent of two steel plates scrapping against each other. The dismembered remains of Waspinator clattered to the floor near his feet.

"Tone it down a few octaves, will you?" Blackarachnia snapped. She stood on the _Darksyde_'s main bridge, leaning against a computer consol.

"Seconded," Tarantulas agreed. "My audios are too sensitive to have to listen to your screeching this early in the morning."

Terrorsaur glared. Before he could snap off any kind of retort, a smooth voice broke the rising tension.

"What is this you're going on about, Terrorsaur?" Megatron demanded from the bridge's command chair. Inferno stood beside him, his ever loyal bodyguard. "Report. I want to know why Waspinator is laying in pieces and leaking mech fluid all over the floor." Rather than out of concern for his subordinate, the disgruntled tone in the Predacon leader's voice seemed to stem more from the thought of what a mess said mech fluid was currently making.

Turning his attention towards Megatron, Terrorsaur struggled to put his still reeling thoughts into coherent sentences. "Waspinator and I went out to scout the western border of Sector Twelve. While there, we spotted two Maximals on patrol. One was Rattrap. The other was a femme. At first I didn't recognize her but…"

Terrorsaur paused. He turned what he wanted to say over in his head several different times trying to find the best phrasing. He desperately wanted to tell his fellow Predacons what he'd discovered, but he didn't want them to outright dismiss his report because he sounded crazy saying it. He knew how ludacris his news was going to sound; he was still trying to come to terms with it himself. But there was no doubt what what his former comrade, Dinobot, had revealed herself to be.

"But…?" Megatron impatiently prompted.

Unable to think of any better way to say it, the flustered flier decided to just blurt it out. "It was Dinobot! That traitor! The femme with the other Maximal was Dinobot! She attacked Waspinator and cut his head off!"

For several moments every Predacon there simply stared at Terrorsaur, their faces unreadable plates of metal. Although he forced himself not to give any indication of it, Terrorsaur inwardly cringed. Maybe he should have tried phrasing his news a little better after all.

The first to regain her composure was Blackarachnia. With a chortle of mocking laughter, she folded her arms across her chest and cocked her head to one side. "You can't possibly expect us to believe that, do you?"

"What nonsense!" Inferno chimed in. "I've encounted the traitor more times that I can count on the battlefield and never once have I detected any signs of femme-programming."

Tarantulas joined in as well. "Such a story is completely impossible. There's no way Dinobot could have hidden amongst us as a femme for as long as he did if what you're saying were true. I think you should come see me later to get your optics and processing unit examined."

"I know how it sounds, but I'm not lying!" Terrorsaur spat. "There's no mistaking what I saw. That Maximal-loving traitor is really a femme, and she took Waspinator out with nothing but a kick to the head!"

More laughter sounded around the bridge. Terrorsaur's hands clenched into fists by his sides. Mech fluid pulsed through his audio receptors. Before the flier could do or say anything more in his defense, another voice calmly rang out across the bridge, effectively silencing everyone else there.

"Show me footage of the fight."

Terrorsaur looked towards the bridge's command chair. Megatron was leaning forward, his eyes fixed on Terrorsaur with unnerving intensity. There was an unexplainable tension stiffening the larger mech's posture - something like excitement and… something else. Something the flier did not quite feel comfortable trying to decifer.

Mustering his bearings, the Terrorsaur gave a shaky nod. He stooped to pick up Waspinator's dismembered head from the ground. He carried it to the bridge's main hologram table and deposited it the middle. Waspinator's lifeless optics stared back at him, his face frozen in a comical look of shock. Ignoring his sightless stare, Terrorsaur tapped a short series of commands into the holo-table's computer.

There was a hum as the computer came online and the table's surface flooded with light. There was a momentary pause, and suddenly like a projector screen springing to life twin beams of light shot out from Waspinator's optic lens to form a large, three-dimensional image that hovered midair several feet off the ground. The Predacons all curiously leaned forward as shapes began to emerge from the projected image of Waspinator's memories as they'd been seen through the flier's own optics.

It was an overhead view of two bots. One was unmistakably the Maximals' demolition expert and spy, Rattrap. The other one - just as Terrorsaur had said - was a femme. But a femme with an unsettlingly familiar blue and gold superstructure. Extremely tall, she was solidly built with thickly armored shoulders, arms and legs. The widened swell of her hip plates added an extra element of mystery to her warrior stance. A rotating, multi-sectioned sword was clutched in her hand. There was a long moment of no motion from either Maximals as if they were listening to something. Then, with no warning to the group of Predacons watching, the femme suddenly kicked off the ground and came at the camera - which had really been Waspinator at the time - with alarming speed. Then, in a leap that seemed to defy gravity, the femme suddenly appeared midair beside the image's source. Twisting in place, a clawed foot shot out… and the screen abruptly filled with static.

For several moments not a single word was spoken by the entranced group of Predacons. But then, as if all coming back to their senses at the same time, the _Darksyde_'s bridge erupted in a series of incredulous shouts.

"What in the seven Pits was that?"

"Is this for real?"

"Not possible!"

"I _told_ you so!"

They were all silenced by a single word.

"Beautiful," Megatron murmured, still staring at the static-filled holo-image with an expression of dumbstruck awe. One by one the other Predacons turned to regard their leader. Leaning back in his seat, Megatron continued to stare at the empty screen. Although his expression was unreadable, his optics burned with a look Terrorsaur had never seen before.

"My Queen?" Inferno hesitantly called.

Megatron finally came back to himself. "It would seem Terrorsaur did not lie after all." His voice was surprisingly level and calm givin the shocking footage he'd just seen. "It would also seem that our wayward compatriot, Dinobot, has been keeping an interesting secret from us. I recognize that warrior stance anywhere, no matter what kind of body it's coming from."

Raking feverish optics over his subordinates, Megatron rumbled, "I want her. I don't care how you do it, but before the end of this week I want Dinobot back in Predacon control."

_To Be Continued_…

Quick Side Note: that whole spiel about velociraptors and their coloring was pretty much ripped off from the second Jurassic Park movie when they went to the second island and half the raptors are suddenly sporting feathers and colorful stripes on their backs. I can only assume they were suppose to be the males since in the first movie, all the dinosaurs in the park were suppose to be females.


	3. Out of the Frying Pan

**Chapter Three: Out of the Frying Pan…**

"Hey, Cheetor, hand me da forty gauge calibrator, will ya?" Without looking up from his work, Rattrap extended an open hand. The requested tool was almost instantly deposited onto his waiting palm. "Thanks," he murmured and bent back over a bundle of fiber-optic lines he'd partially extricated from one of the _Axalon_'s many service consols.

"No problem," Cheetor mumbled, busy with his own section of wiring. The floor around the two mechs was strewn with consol panels, stripped lengths of wire, soldering torches and other miscellaneous tools. There was barely a square inch of open floor space.

It had been five days since the alien quantum surge and the Maximals were still repairing the ship. All of _Axalon_'s essential systems like Sentinal, basic power lines and life-support systems had been rerouted to backup generators. At least a third of the ship's other systems had been knocked offline.

Hence Rattrap and Cheetor's current occupation. Optimus had asked them to restore communication lines to the lower levels of the ship. They'd been working non-stop for the last several hours and were finally nearing the end of their task.

Rattrap was soldering one of the last replacement lines into the computer's circuit board. His hands moved in the short, practiced motions of an expert. A quick tap of the soldering torch here; a small whiff of smoke that smelt of burnt ozone; a brightly colored wire inserted there followed by another quick tap of the torch and he finished off another line. Starting on the next set of wires, the demolition expert let his hands move on automatic. He'd done repairs like this so many time, it no longer even required his full attention. Rattrap was so caught up in the process, he began to hum the bars of some forgotten song under his breath, completely unaware of his own actions.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" Cheetor asked.

"Hn?" Rattrap grunted. His humming immediately stopped. "Wha'chu talkin' 'bout?"

Cheetor shrugged. "I don't know. You just seem to have been in a better mood than usual these last few days. Did something happen?"

"Ya mean besides almost gettin' killed, an' havin' a moon explode an' mutate' our superstructures?"

Cheetor rolled his optics. "You know what I mean."

Rattrap considered the younger Maximal's question. He set his soldering torch aside. He'd never actually admit it to Cheetor but he _had_ been feeling pretty good these last few days. Ever since his scouting mission with Dinobot to be exact.

While there were still moments of awkward uncertainty concerning the warrior's new appearance, Rattrap had begun to acclimate himself to the idea of the Predacon traitor being a femme. In fact, he'd begun to warm up to it quite quickly after their brief confrontation while on patrol together. Since then he and Dinobot had fallen back into their old routine of bickering and insults. As he'd come to realize in the time since then, there was a new element to their confrontations that hadn't been there before. Despite all the warrioress's bluster and stoic façade, Dinobot was extremely self-conscious about her feminine form. Any mention of it during their verbal spars would earn Rattrap some of the most interesting reactions. Whether that be a shocked pause, a sputtered string of words, or -Rattrap's ultimate reward- the faintest hint of mech fluid tainting the warrioress's facial plates.

Their interactions had become a game. Despite his new arsenal of innuendos and insults, Dinobot never backed down from a confrontation and - as if in retaliation to the spy's expanded potential for offensive material - had stepped up the crassness of her own insults to match Rattrap's.

Despite several whispered asides by Optimus to Rhinox bemoaning how he almost wished Dinobot and Rattrap still weren't talking, Rattrap found the entire situation exhilarating. He never missed an opportunity to corner the raptor and rile her up with a few quick jabs. It was just too much fun. It made him count the cycles until he saw her again.

"Eh," Rattrap shrugged, focusing his attention back on Cheetor who was still staring at him expectantly for an answer. "Nothin' much. Things've just been goin' better than usual, 's all. If ya don't count dat moon explodin', dat is…"

"If you say so," Cheetor said, his tone doubtful. He chose to do Rattrap the favor of not pushing the issue, though.

Rattrap turned back to the tangled mess of wires in his lap. Cheetor did the same with his. There was no more humming or talk between them. For almost a quarter of an hour, they worked in companionable silence until the sound of approaching footsteps interrupted them. Rattrap and Cheetor both looked up from their work as the footsteps grew louder and more pronounced as they neared. The _thud-click _echo of heavy footstep echoed down the length of corridors like mortar fire before the owner finally emerged from hallway into the service room Rattrap and Cheetor had stationed themselves.

A devilish grin snaked across Rattrap's face at the sight of Dinobot.

"Hey, Dinobot!" Cheetor greeted.

If there'd been any change in how the easy-going youngster interacted with Dinobot since discovering the former Predacon's true gender, it was that he'd begun to act more friendly towards her - as if a change in gender-formatting had somehow made the warrioress less a trained killer and more approachable, like some kind of adopted older sister figure.

Dinobot, on the other hand, had had no such change of view of her relationship with Cheetor, and returned his greeting with an indifferent grunt of acknowledgement.

"Hey, Lizard Lips," Rattrap said. He didn't really care about being friendly; he just wanted to make sure the raptor acknowledged his presence as well.

"Vermin," she shot back with a sneer.

"Where're you going?" Cheetor asked. He seemed eager to jump on the opportunity for distraction Dinobot's presence offered. Repair work was never an exciting job.

"Patrol. Tigatron reported a suspiciously high amount of Predacon activity this morning in the mountainous part of sector nine. Optimus has ordered me to go investigate."

"Aw," Cheetor said with a wistful look of longing. "I wish I could go too. It gets so boring on-ship. Rattrap and I are still finishing up the communication lines. Have fun, though."

"Patrol duty is not meant to be _fun_," Dinobot snarled. She spat the word out as if it were a dirty concept. "It is a serious task entrusted to me by our commander. You would do well to remember we are in the middle of a war and not on extended vacation."

The warrioress's harsh rebuke rolled over Cheetor like water off a duck's back. "Whatever. Just be careful." He gave her a friendly smile and parting wave.

Dinobot looked as if she wanted to roll her optics in disgust, but visibly restrained herself. To do so would have no doubt, in her mind, somehow tarnished her personal code of honor. Instead, she grit her dentals together and turned away from the two. She moved to continue on her way towards the _Axalon_'s rear lift, but was stopped by Rattrap deciding to insert himself back into the conversation.

"She'll need ta be careful, Spots. She's goin' out der with no one ta cover her backside, an' we both know dat's at least a two bot job. Dat aft has too many blind spots fer just one bot ta watch."

Just as expected, Dinobot wheeled back around, teeth bared in a vicious snarl. If Dinobot had had any heckles they would have all been standing straight up on the back of her neck. "Do you enjoy mocking the dimensions of my superstructure, Filth-Eater, or were you just programmed to continually spew mindless trash from that bottomless sewer line you call a mouth?"

Rattrap's response was a careless shrug and a slag-eating grin. "I'm just pointin' out a face. Don't take it out on me, sweet cheeks."

For half a second, Rattrap wondered if he'd overstepped the line with that last nickname by the way Dinobot's optics flashed a dangerous, laser-green hue. The raptor's body tensed as if she were two nano-klicks from parting him from several of his limbs. At the last moment she seemed to regain control of herself, though, and sharply spun away from him towards the adjacent. Virtually seething around the vents, Dinobot stalked out of the room without even a second glance. Cheetor and Rattrap could track her progress down the hall by the angry _thud-click_ of her raptor claws against the decking.

As the sound of Dinobot's footsteps finally disappeared the distance, Rattrap gave a satisfied chuckle and turned back to the bundle of wires hanging from the ship's service consol. He busied himself for several moments with a new circuit board before Cheetor abruptly reclaimed his attention.

"Rattrap, do you like Dinobot?"

The question caught the spy completely by surprise. He choked on his own glossa as he struggled to find his vocal processor.

"W-wha-? No!" Rattrap sputtered. "Where would'ja get a crazy idea like dat?"

Cheetor stared at him a look of confused innocence. "It's just that you always go out of your way to talk to her, even if it's just to start a fight."

"Yea, so?" Rattrap snapped. "She's a stinkin' Pred. Why shouldn' I start a fight with her?"

"But it's not _mean _fighting like it was when Dinobot first joined our side. You just say things you know will get her worked up. You're acting like my one friend back on Cybertron who really liked this one femme and would always pick on her to try to get her to notice him."

Rattrap froze, the most irrational sense of having been caught washing over him. He quickly forced the feeling down, but Cheetor's words remained in the back of his CPU like an encoded enemy virus -ready to spring to life and wipe out everything in its path the moment it was fully activated. Cheetor wasn't the smartest bot on Optimus's crew. But every so often he could be disarmingly astute even if he didn't fully understand what he was pointing out.

Rattrap tried to cover his embarassment with disgust. "Where in da world would'ja ever get an idea like dat? I mean, whatta load of slag. Me likin' Choppa'face? Dat's da biggest joke I've ever heard. Why would I ever like some bad-tempered, smelly saurian who'd stab ya in da back as soon as look at ya? I'd hafta be pretty desperate fer company, if ya know what I mean, ta ever look at Lizard Lips like dat."

Cheetor shrugged. He returned his attention to the circuit board he was repairing. "Whatever. All I'm saying is that you're acting exactly like my friend did."

Despite himself, curiosity piqued Rattrap's processor. "Whatever happened to yer friend an' that femme he liked?" He tried not to sound too eager to know.

"They started seeing each other. Last I heard, they got bonded and were expecting a sparkling."

Silence once again descended on the small service room. Rattrap's mind swam with a thousand, unsettling thoughts. Despite his best to deny it, a small thrill coursed through his body.

Working quickly - if only to focus his thoughts on something else - Rattrap finally finished rewiring the last section of com-link lines. As he busied himself with packing away his tools and stuffing the repaired wire line back into the service hatch, an insane desire to go after Dinobot stole over him. Maybe it was some inherent need to disprove Cheetor, or perhaps to prove to himself that the story of Cheetor's friend was completely unrelated to him, but Rattrap knew he wasn't going to be able to stop thinking about Dinobot and Cheetor's quiries about her until he proved that the kid was imagining wild tales. And what better way to do that than by testing them out with another confrontation with the saurian warrioress?

Despite himself, Rattrap's engine pumped a little quicker at the thought. Whether it was in anticipation of another round of verbal sparring or something else, the spy refused to analyze the reasoning behind his actions at any length.

"If yer almost done, I think I'm gonna go help scout sector nine," he said in the most casual way he could. "No use stickin' 'round here doin' nothin' while Megs's plannin' somethin' evil ta do to us."

"Really?" Cheetor perked up excitedly. "I'll go with you. Just give me a second to finish off this line and then I'll be done."

Rattrap betrayed no outward emotions, but inside his coolant tank sank. He hadn't meant to invite Cheetor along, but he couldn't think of any good reason to refuse his company without sparking another round of uncomfortable questions.

"Yea, sure, fine." Rattrap tried to swallow back his disappointment. "Just let me call Optimus ta tell him where we're goin.'" Going over to the recently restored comm-link box, Rattrap tapped in the code for the main bridge. "Hey yo, Boss Monkey," he called into the speaker.

There was a brief pause before the line's other side picked up.

"_Rattrap_?" Optimus's voice replied.

"Who else?"

"_I see you got the communication lines back up and running. Good job. I was expecting you and Cheetor to be down there for most of the day."_

"Just who do ya think yer dealin' with?" Rattrap feigned a voice of wounded pride. "I can rewire a simple comm-link line with optics shuttered an' both servos tied behind my back."

A deep chuckle rumbled over the line. _"Well, good job in any case. You and Cheetor go ahead and take a break. You earned it."_

"Actually..." Rattrap hesitated, "me an' Cheetor were thinkin' about goin' ta help scout dat area Tigatron said he saw a bunch of Preds."

There was a momentary pause on the other side of the line. _"You're volunteering for patrol duty?"_ There was an unmistakable note of shock in Optimus' voice.

Rattrap fought down a wave of impatience. "Yea. Why's dat such a surprisin' thought?"

"_I guess because I usually have to directly order or blackmail you into going out on patrol."_

Rattrap inwardly cursed. Any chances he might have had for keeping his real motives secret were becoming less and less likely by the minute. "Yea, well, let's just say da kid kinda talked me inta it."

"_Alright_," Optimus replied after a thoughtful pause. "_Just try to be back to the ship before sundown. I also want you and Cheetor to call in every two mega-klicks with a status update_."

Rattrap grinned victoriously. He was just about to close the line when Optimus's voice crackled to life one last time. "_Oh. And Rattrap? Try not to annoy Dinobot too much. I'd hate for Cheetor to have to bring you back to base in pieces._" There was a knowing, suggestive note to Optimus's voice that Rattrap didn't like, and for the second time in less than half a mega-klick he felt as if all he had been exposed in the most embarassing way.

Snapping the comm-link off with more force than what was probably necessary, Rattrap kicked his toolbox off to the side. He'd pick it up later when they returned. He glanced at Cheetor. "Ready, kid?"

"Yep! Let's go!"

Together, the two navigated the twisting maze of hallways and soon were standing outside at the bottom of the _Axalon_'s rear lift in the early afternoon sunlight. With a quick transformation, the two converted to beast mode and oriented themselves due north. They started off. Before the quantum surge, Rattrap would have had trouble keeping up with Cheetor but with his new transmetal wheels he was able to easily keep pace with the faster scout. Whether it was because of his upgraded superstructure or unconscious anticipation, it took barely a quarter of an hour for them to spot Dinobot in the distant.

The raptor tensed at the sound of their approach and spun on her heels, ready to meet any attack. Rattrap grinned at the disgruntled look that twisted the warrioress's features upon confirming their identity. She very reluctantly relaxed her battle stance.

"Hey, Dinobot!" Cheetor called he jogged up beside her. Rattrap sidled to a stop on her other side.

Dinobot eyed them each in turn with a hard glare. "_What_ are you two doing here?"

"Optimus said we could help scout sector nine with you," Cheetor said.

One corner of Dinobot's lips curled. "And you decided to join me in doing so?" It was less a question than an annoyed statement of fact.

"Yeah. That's okay, isn't it?" Rattrap had to hand it to Cheetor. When the kid wanted to he could muster the most manipulative set of hurt-kitten eyes imaginable. Not even the battle-hardened warrioress seemed immune to them. With a resigned huff Dinobot's shoulders sagged in defeat.

"Very well. Just do not get in my way should we come across any enemy scouts."

"Sure!" Cheetor chirped, once again bright and perky. "No problem!"

"And you, Vermin," Dinobot said, swinging her head around to spear Rattrap with a poisonous glare, "I would suggest not opening that foul little mouth of yours for the duration of this patrol unless you want to experience an unfortunate… _accident_ up in the more mountainous parts of where we are heading. There are quite a few cliffs a tiny pest like you might have trouble navigating."

Ignoring the threat, Rattrap shot the raptor one of his infamous grins. "Don't worry 'bout lil ol' me, Choppa'face. I'm actually quite experienced _navigatin'_ larger bodies of matter. I've been known ta find even da tiniest of crevices ta grab hold of an' explore, if ya know what I mean."

Dinobot did not deem such a comment worthy of actually response and instead sent him a dark, venomous glare.

Cheetor watched the exchange with a blank look of innocence.

With a rumbled growl Dinobot started walking again, forcing her two companions to hurry to catch up with her. For almost an hour, the three traveled in relative peace - Cheetor keeping a steady stream of mindless chatter up that neither of his companions actually made any effort to listen to. If anything, Cheetor's voice was the background soundtrack of their journey that helped dampen the potential of anymore confrontations from breaking out between Dinobot and Rattrap.

Unfortunately, just as the small scout party reached the lower area of the mountain region where the land began to grow more uneven and rocky, Dinobot finally reached the end of her limit.

"Enough," she barked, cutting Cheetor off mid-sentence in his overly dramatized recount of a racing adventure back on Cybertron. Pinning the younger Maximal with a withering look of frayed patience, the warrioress motioned with her snout ahead of them towards the rising slope of land. "Go scout ahead - at least one and a half klicks."

"Okay!" Cheetor chirped, and before either Dinobot and Rattrap had time to add anything else the youngster took off at high speed.

Dinobot and Rattrap watched as he veered around a craggy bend and disappeared out of sight.

"Thanks," Rattrap muttered after a pause. "'cause if you hadn't done dat, I might've just had ta weld his mouth shut."

"I was actually considering severing his vocal lines," Dinobot dryly replied.

Rattrap chuckled, although a bit tightly. He had a strange feeling the warrioress wasn't joking.

Together, the two set off again in a somewhat more subdued pace.

"Why did you and Cheetor follow me?" Dinobot asked after a few klicks of blissful silence. "Did I give Optimus some reason to doubt my abilities that he felt he had to send you two to accompany me?" There was an unmistakable edge to the raptor's voice, and it took Rattrap a moment to realize it was because the warrioress really did wonder if Optimus was beginning to question her skills.

"No, no, nothin' like dat," Rattrap quickly assured. The ease of tension in the warrioress's body did not escape the spy's notice. _Primus, she's touchy. Who would'a ever thought someone like her'd be so fraggin' insecure._ "We volunteered ta come."

Dinobot shot him an incredulous look. "_You_ volunteered for patrol duty?"

"Why does everyone seem so fraggin' surprise 'bout dat?"

"Maybe because Optimus usually has to threaten you with a lunar cycle's worth of monitor duty before you concede to following orders."

Rattrap inwardly seethed. It was true: he avoided patrol duty the same way he avoided surveillance detail and death. But that didn't mean he needed his nose shoved in it.

"Yea, well, like I said, ya need another 'bot out here coverin' yer aft," Rattrap shot back. "Wouldn' want our delicate lil femme ta get hurt or off-lined, now would we?"

Dinobot's lips curled back from her teeth with an annoyed hiss. "I am more than capable of defending myself, rodent." That defensive undertone was once again in her voice.

"Yea, I know," Rattrap said. He lowered his vocals to a more serious tone. "But dat doesn't mean ya can't accept a lil' company or backup every once inna awhile."

"Even backup that feels he must continually insult me like it was his Primus-given duty?" Dinobot asked, regarding him with a quirked eyebrow. It took Rattrap half a klick to recognize it as one of Dinobot's rare attempts at playfulness.

"Nah. Dat's just ta make sure things stay int'restin'," he smirked in reply.

Despite the warrioress's dismissive snort, Rattrap did not miss the way Dinobot's lips quirked ever so slightly in the corners, as if she were fighting back what might almost have been called a smile if it'd been on any other 'bot. Nor did the Maximal spy miss the way his fuel lines pumped a little faster at the sight.

Unbidden, Cheetor's question about his feelings for Dinobot resurfaced in the back of Rattrap's processor. He quickly pushed the idea back down into the deeper parts of his subconscious before it could coalesce into full conscious thought. He also valiantly tried to ignore the warm electrical tingle he felt in the back of his sparkchamber at the memory of Dinobot's tentative smile.

A companionable silence fell between the two. As they continued their trek deeper into sector nine, the land became more hilly and barren. Steep cliffs thrust out of the ground at odd intervals to create a confusing landscape of maze-like canyons and ridges. A noticeable tension entered Dinobot's body and took up permanent residence between her shoulder blades as the land steadily closed in around them. Her eyes became more alert and watchful, constantly darting from side to side. It was as if she was expecting an attack at any moment.

"Hey, power down a bit, will ya? Yer makin' me nervous with all yer twitchin,'" Rattrap groused after several klicks of this.

Dinobot snorted. "For one as adversed to death, I would have thought my cautiousness would be a welcome precaution on your part."

"Not when yer cautiousness makes me wonder if yer gonna turn an' attack _me _if my wheels accidentally skip a rock or somethin.'"

"Unlike you, I do not startle and scurry away at the first hint of danger. I know how to tell the difference between friend and foe and how to react accordingly, although the idea of finally being rid of you does have a certain appeal. If you had any sort of battle training you would know- _Quiet_! Listen."

At first Rattrap wasn't sure what had caught the warrioress's attention. But then he heard it too. At first, it sounded like nothing more than the garbled echo of a summer thunderstorm giving a long low rumble somewhere on the horizon. But as Rattrap stood there frozen, the sound steadily grew in pitch and volume until it became more like the sub-sonic rumble of a fighter jet passing overhead. It continued to build until it became an open whistle - like that of an incoming missile.

Suddenly straight above them two fiery streaks shot across the sky, heading directly northeast of where he and Dinobot stood. Several seconds after disappearing from sight the muffled echo of two successive impacts thundered somewhere in the near-distance. The ground vibrated under their feet from the force of the impacts.

It took Rattrap's startled processor a moment to catch up to the present and recognize the two projectiles for what they were. When it did, he felt his engine seize with a surge of bewildered shock.

Those had been stasis pods! Stasis pods carrying the protoforms of the _Axalon_'s crew. Protoforms that could be activated and brought online as either Maximals or Predacons, depending on who got to them first to wake the 'bots inside.

"Pods…" Rattrap murmured, his central processor whining as it struggled to compute the possibilities of this unforeseen stroke of luck. "An' der's two of 'em."

"Judging by their trajectory, they couldn't have landed more than three miles from our current position," Dinobot said, her snout trained in the direction the two pods had disappeared. "Dinobot to base," she called, keying on her internal comm-link.

"_Rhinox here_," the engineer's voice rumbled back over the line.

"Rattrap and I have just seen what appear to be two stasis pods entering the planet's atmosphere. They both landed not far from us."

"_Pods_?" Rhinox parroted, his voice edged with eagerness. "_And two of them_?" Rattrap couldn't tell for sure, but he thought he heard a startled gasp from someone else behind Rhinox. No doubt every crewmember on the _Axalon_'s command deck was listening in on Rhinox and Dinobot's conversation.

"Affirmative," Dinobot replied. "We are heading there to investigate, but immediate backup is requested. The Predacons, no doubt, have detected the pods entering the planet's atmosphere and are sending scouts to try and retrieve them as we speak."

"_Understood. Hurry and get there first if you can. We're on our way._" The line cut off.

With only a cursory glance at each other Rattrap and Dinobot took off after the two pods. Moving as fast as they could through the rocky terrain, the two navigated the maze of narrow canyons until they broke free again into open space. An uneven, sloping landscape of rocks and boulders spanned before them for several kilometers. In the distance two thin lines of smoke snaked up into the air, marking the place where the two pods had come to rest.

As the two raced across the jagged stone landscape - Dinobot's feet barely even seeming to hit the ground and Rattrap easily racing around any obstacles with his new wheels - a third figure suddenly appeared in the distance, bee-lining straight for them. Rattrap instantly recognized the shiny yellow and teal superstructure of Cheetor's new superstructure. Without any effort, the younger Maximal fell into pace beside them.

"Did you see that?" he excitedly called, not even breaking stride as he skirted around a large boulder blocking his path. "Those were stasis pods!"

"A' course we saw 'em!" Rattrap snapped. "Why ya think we're runnin' like maniacs towards 'em?"

_Seriously_, Rattrap huffed. He liked Cheetor but sometimes the kid said things before thinking about how obvious it already was to everyone else.

"Quiet, both of you," Dinobot snapped as they drew closer to the crash site. "We don't know who we will meet there. Don't forget we were originally sent to investigate the Predacon activity Tigatron detected earlier this morning. There is a very good chance we are not the only ones in this area who saw those pods fall."

Rattrap instantly sobered, an uncomfortable tightness gripping the bottom of his coolant tank. For what reason he couldn't quite say for sure. He'd gone into dangerous situations like this before, unsure of what dangers awaited him ahead. He knew he usually made a dramatic show of bemoaning his and everyone else's assure deaths, but most of the time that was just exaggerated playacting on his part to relieve some of his pre-battle nervousness. But he rarely experienced that true tightening of fuel lines near his spark chamber, or that acidic churn of… _wrongness _in the back of his throat like he was now. He'd had this feeling not too long ago, right before Optimus left to man that shuttle to the planet's second moon.

Before Rattrap could ponder these feelings for very long, he and his two companions finally reached the pods' landing site.

The area was slightly more rugged than the one they'd just transversed. Tall, jagged monoliths of rock protruded out of the ground as if they'd been driven up through the earth's mantel by the hammer of some prehistoric god hiding underneath the surface. Dinobot, Rattrap and Cheetor skid to a halt behind one of the towering walls of rock and transformed to bi-pedal mode, weapons drawn. On the other side of their improvised scouting spot, twin columns of smoke rose from the pods' superheated casing. Wispy trails of gray drifted into the air above them. The murmur of other voices floated with those trails of smoke on the wind.

Dinobot pushed her way to the front of their group and cautiously peered around the rocks. By the warrioress's muttered curse, Rattrap knew they weren't the first to reach the pods .

Dinobot turned back to him and Cheetor, her facial plates set in a steely expression. "There are four of them: Inferno, Tarantulas, Terrorsaur and Waspinator."

"Slaggit all. How da heck did dey all beat us here?" Rattrap whispered back. "We saw those pods fall less den a few minutes ago. How'd they get out here so fast?"

"They must have already been in the vicinity when they saw them fall," Dinobot concluded with a growl. "But _why_ they were already here is still the question…"

"So what do we do?" Cheetor murmured. "Do we try to take the pods?"

"Of course," Dinobot said as if such a thing was the painfully obvious choice. Her hand tightened around the grip of her sword.

"Shouldn' we wait fer backup?" Rattrap hesitated. "There're more of them den there are of us."

"Only by one," the warrioress said, turning back towards the pods and their unseen enemies. "I've faced worse odds then this before and emerged victorious. If we wait for the others to arrive, it will be too late. We must act now."

That sinking feeling grew stronger in Rattrap's coolant tank. Why did this feel so wrong?

Unfortunately, before Rattrap could decipher these prophetic feelings, Dinobot chose that moment to utter a fearsome battle cry and speed around the corner. Unable to do anything else, Cheetor and Rattrap followed her lead.

Just as Dinobot had said, Inferno, Terrorsaur, Waspinator and Tarantulas were huddled in a loose circle around the pods. The two flier were currently waist-deep in the craters the pods had created when they crash landed. They were trying to pull the half-buried capsules out. At Dinobot's war cry they all swung around to face them.

Rattrap raised his blaster and managed to clip one of Tarantulas' spider legs before any of the Predacons could overcome their initial surprise. Those few seconds it had taken to raise his blaster and fire off a round of shots, however, was just enough time for the enemy soldiers to recover their bearings, regroup and return fire.

"Maximal scum!" Inferno's angry yell echoed across the distance separating them. "These pods are now property of the colony!"

Rattrap dove for the ground and rolled behind a large boulder just in time to avoid a massive plume of fire from the fire ant's flamethrower. "Yea, we'll see 'bout dat!" the spy yelled with more bravado than he actually felt. How did he always seem to get himself into situations like this? Oh, that's right. Because his sword-wielding, ex-Predacon companion felt she had to charge into every battle head on with no second thoughts about subtleness or battle strategies.

Not far away Cheetor had also found a fox-hole behind a rock to shoot from. Dinobot was lost from sight behind the multi-colored streaks of blaster-fire sizzling the air. A tiny jolt coursed through Rattrap's engine at the realization, but then he heard the unmistakable rumble of the warrioress's battle cry and was put at ease.

Sneaking a quick peek around the edge of the boulder he hid behind, Rattrap fired several rounds to force Inferno and Terrorsaur to duck back behind their own improvised shelters. Through the haze of smoke and laserfire, Rattrap saw Dinobot rushing towards the nearest pod. Waspinator was still struggling to free the embedded capsule from the ground amidst heavy gunfire.

As Dinobot rushed towards him - her facial plates a fearsome mask of promised death - the flier gave a terrified wail. "Keep scary femme-bot away from Wazpinator!" he cried, tugging frantically on the access handle of the pod. "Wazpinator doezn't want his head cut off again! It still hurtz from last time!"

A snarl was Waspinator's only response as Dinobot came to the lip of the impact crater and raised her sword to finish off the Predacon flier. Another scream of terror burst from the insect's mandibles. Before the warrioress's sword could come down and send the flier's spark on to rejoin the Matrix, a laser blast suddenly shot across the battlefield and hit Dinobot in the lower torso.

The warrioress went down to one knee, clutching her side. From his hiding spot on the other side of the battlefield, Rattrap's fuel lines almost seized. "Choppa'face!" It was only the most instinctive form of common sense that kept him from rushing from his safe spot into the war zone to go to the raptor's side.

"Waspinator, go!" Terrorsaur yelled, his blaster trained on the warrioress. "Get that pod back to base, now!"

As if his comrade's order gave him a new sense of strength, the green flier finally managed to wrench the pod out of the ground. Reverting to beast-mode, Waspinator grabbed hold of one the pod's handles with all six legs and lifted into the sky. With only a frightened backwards glance at Dinobot as if to make sure the female Maximal wasn't going to leap into the air after him, Waspinator took off, the pod dangling heavily underneath him.

"No!" Dinobot screamed in rage, forcing herself to her feet again as the flier - and the pod - disappeared into the distance. The lower half of her left ribcage was charred black. Lips pulled back in a murderous snarl, she swung around towards Terrorsaur, sword clutched angrily between her claws. "I'll make you pay for that, you worthless piece of scrap metal," she snarled.

"Come get me, traitor," Terrorsaur taunted.

With a howl of rage, the warrioress lunged at him - her sword drawn back over her shoulder.

Rattrap didn't see what happened immediately next as a sharp cry of pain forced him to tear his attention away from the raptor back towards his other companion.

Cheetor sat behind the large boulder he'd taken cover behind. But instead of being turned towards their enemy, returning fire, he sat with his back pressed flat against the rock and head hanging limp down the center of his chest. Bright blue mech fluid and pinkish energon poured freely down one side of his body. An iridescent puddle of purple fluid began to form on the ground around him. A gapping blaster-hole had torn right through his right arm at the shoulder joint, almost severing the entire limb from the rest of his body. Only a few cables and frayed circuit lines were keeping it from becoming completely detached. His gun lay forgotten on the ground not far from him. As Rattrap watched, it was slowly swallowed by the growing pool of Cheetor's spilt life fluids.

"Kid!"

Rattrap was no medic, but it didn't take a genius to know that a major energon line had been hit. If Cheetor didn't get medical attention soon, there was the greatest possibility he would go permanently offline. If the way Cheetor seemed to be having trouble keeping his optics online and his cooling vents cycling, that time was rapidly nearing.

"Kid, just hold on!" Rattrap cried over the deafening barrage of blaster-fire. His call might as well have fallen on deaf audios for all the response he got from the younger Maximal. Gritting his dentals in helpless anger, he snuck a glance around the edge of his hiding spot. Inferno and Tarantulas were keeping up a steady rain of fire on his position, forcing the spy to quickly duck back behind. There was no way he could make it over to Cheetor without becoming a casualty himself, he realized with a sinking feeling of dread. For now, the kid was on his own. All he could do was hope Cheetor was able to hold on long enough for help to arrive.

From the other side of the battlefield, Rattrap caught the sound of Dinobot. Firing a few blasts around the side of his cover, he snuck a quick look to assess the situation. Almost immediately, Inferno and Tarantulas forced him to duck back behind. From what he'd seen, Dinobot was engaged in a one-on-one battle with Terrorsaur. Mustering his courage, the Maximal spy once again returned fire on the two Predacons by swinging halfway out into open space and taking aim.

Lady Luck must have been on his side that day, because just as Rattrap moved to return fire Tarantulas decided to swing out from his own hiding place at that exact same moment and took one of Rattrap's shots in the shoulder. The scientist gave a garbled shriek of pain and disappeared back behind his cover. He did not reappear.

"Foul enemy of the colony!" Inferno screamed. "I shall show you what happens to those that defy the Royalty!"

For half a second, Rattrap thought the fire-ant was going to unleash another wave of flames on him. But instead, Inferno sharply spun on his heels and, taking aim, fired several dozen rounds of bullets behind him.

There was a howl of pain and Dinobot was once again driven to her knees - her back now a pockmarked mess of shrapnel.

"Dinobot!" Rattrap screamed. Not even thinking about his own safety, he instinctively tried to go to the warrioress's aide. But just as he came halfway out into the open Inferno forced him back with a massive plume of white-tipped flames.

Terrorsaur stood over the downed warrioress with a triumphant look on his facial plates. His screechy laughter echoed across the scorch marked battlefield. "Not so tough when you don't have the element of surprise on your side anymore, are you, traitor?" he taunted. The flier then lifted his hand and savagely pistol-whipped Dinobot across the face with the grip of his gun.

The warrioress's head snapped around over her shoulder. If Terrorsaur had done that to any other 'bot he probably would have taken their head clean off their shoulders. Instead, Dinobot's optics blinked out of existence as if someone had just flipped some sort of internal switch. Her body went limp and sagged to the ground at Terrorsaur's feet.

"That's for slicing Waspinator's head off," Terrorsaur hissed with a disdainful sneer.

Before Rattrap could fully process what was happening, Terrorsaur turned back to Inferno and Tarantulas. "Come on. Let's get out of here before more Maximals come. Inferno, Tarantulas, get the pod. I'll take care of Dinobot." Terrorsaur then holstered his blaster and stooped down beside the off-lined raptor. Grabbing hold of one arm and swinging it up and over his shoulder, he hoisted Dinobot off the ground while supporting half her weight against his side. Clutching her tightly against him, he then rocketed into the air with the unconscious warrioress.

"No!" Rattrap cried as the flier turned and sped away in the same direction Waspinator had disappeared. He raised his blaster and took aim at Terrorsaur's retreating back, but another plume of flames forced him to duck back behind cover before he could fire.

"Any rescue attempts are worthless," Inferno called to him. "The Royalty has given orders for the traitor's capture. The Queen wants the traitor for his own."

Before Rattrap could say or do anything in response, the fire-ant reverted to beast-mode and scurried over to the remaining escape pod. Tarantulas - also in beast mode - followed close behind, although at a slightly slowly pace. He was noticeably limping. At least one leg on each side didn't seem to be working correctly. Together the two insects wrenched the remaining pod from the ground. Then hoisting it onto both their backs, they scuttled away with the pod supported between them.

Left in the deafening silence of the empty battlefield with no one else but his severely injured comrade for company, Rattrap could do nothing more than helplessly stare after the retreating Predacons.

_To Be Continued_

* * *

Some Reader Feedback:

_Apex Nine_ - As you yourself pointed out: Dinobot's secret was exposed. There wasn't much she could do anymore to hide the fact she's a femme. And so, being the abrasive personality type that she is when it comes to anyone doubting her abilities (no matter what gender) she took the opportunity to berate Terrorsaur. There was no literary fumbling on my part. And Megatron is _not_ a sexual predator. He is simply obsessed with the idea of controlling Dinobot. Even in the show he had an unhealthy obsession for Dinobot (re: _two _clones.) This will all be explained more next chapter. Thanks for the review!

_Dragowolf_ - Rattrap wasn't flirting with Dinobot as much as he was just trying to get a reaction out of her in the most perverted way possible.

_Cu-Curee_ - Honestly, I've never actually watched the original Transformers show with all the characters being cars and jets. So I actually have no idea who Elita-1 is or what she did. I'm taking literary license with this idea of fem-discrimination. Plus Dinobot is really only familiar with how Predacons treat femmes, so she is making exaggerated generalizations between the two factions. Not to mention she's probably carrying a lot of bitter baggage around with her, so it seems only natural she'd expect the worst from everyone.

_Thing with No Talent_ - Dinobot being a femme really _isn't _a big deal. But to Rattrap it is. He feels bewildered and slightly betrayed by her hiding that fact from him. I understand what you're saying about simple plot devices like gender-switching or whatnot, especially in the transformers-verse, but this is the first story in what I'm tentatively planning as a two if not three story series. So most of the plot right now is centered around Dinobot and Rattrap coming to terms with one another and (at the risk of sounding childishly fan-girlish) "getting them together." Also, as I explained in an earlier response, Megatron is not a sexual predator. He's just a control freak with a warped obsession with Dinobot. So her really being a femme just gave him another reason to want to get a hold of her and control her. This will be explained and fleshed out more next chapter.

PLEASE REVIEW!

Signing out  
-LAXgirl


	4. Into the Fire

I was in a slightly creative mood the other day and sketched out some quick illustrations for this fic. If you're interested in seeing them, you can find a link to them in my profile.

Enjoy.

**Chapter Four: Into the Fire**

The Darksyde's lower deck was a cacophony of murmured voices and triumphant shouts. For the first time in several lunar cycles, the Predacons had something to celebrate. Not only had they dealt the Maximals a blow by capturing one of their best fighters, but they had also increased their own numbers by two - giving themselves the strategic advantage of numbers now on the battlefield.

Megatron grinned as he studied the newest additions to his army.

These latest recruits - protoforms recovered from two Maximal stasis pods - currently stood in the middle of a loose circle of their fellow Predacons.

The two both had transmetal superstructures. Their bodies more than likely had been mutated by the quantum surge several days before while they'd still been in orbit high above the planet's surface. But what set these two apart from any other Predacon or Maximal was that when their pods' DNA scanners had surveyed the area to protect them from the planet's energon levels, they'd taken on the beast-mode of not one, but_ two_ different organic life forms. 'Fuzors' they'd been so creatively dubbed.

Although slightly odd in appearance, Megatron was nevertheless pleased by what he saw.

The taller of the two was a dog-eagle hybrid. Silverbolt he'd called himself when asked for name and designation after he'd been brought online with Predacon activation codes. The mech had so far remained quiet and reserved. An almost tangible aura of uncertainty seemed to surround the fuzor, as if his fellow Predacons stirred in him general feelings of unease. Although neither of these traits were usually tolerated by Megatron amongst his troops, he chose to disregard them for the moment as being part of the mech's initial adjustment phase. After all, waking up on a strange alien planet in the middle of a war with a strange new superstructure did tend to be rather disconcerting. Whatever the case, Megatron was more than willing to overlook the mech's quiet nature for the promising advantage the addition of another flier to his forces brought with it.

The other fuzor - Quickstrike he was called - was a scorpion-cobra amalgam. Smaller, stockier and more quick to bite than his fellow fuzor, Quickstrike had earned an almost instantaneous place amongst his new comrades. Megatron was sure the trigger-happy mech would prove himself soon enough on the battlefield as a strong and vicious fighter.

Around the two, the rest of Megatron's troops had gathered. Even Blackarachnia had slunk out from wherever she spun her web to join them. Megatron knew, however, the presence of all his men was not in any way a show of welcome or camaraderie, but rather an opportunity to assess the threat the two new arrivals now posed on each of their own positions in the group's unstable hierarchy. It was a chance to see what new alliances could be formed to gain the upper hand in the constant power struggle that gripped their faction, and/or what measures would now have to be taken to ensure they protected their backs from any treachery in the future.

It was the Predacon way of life, and Megatron wouldn't have stood for anything less from his men. It was that kind of mentality that kept his subordinates sharp on their pedes…

Swinging his arms out wide to visually encompass his entire crew, the warlord said in a booming voice, "Silverbolt, Quickstrike, welcome to the Predacons. Obey me and fight hard for our faction's goals, and you will be well rewarded in the future."

"Yes, Lord Megatron," Silverbolt replied with a solemn bow of his head.

"As long as I get ta shoot something, I don't care what yeh want me ta do," Quickstrike was - as his name suggested - quick to announce. "Just point me in tha right direction, and I'll blast whatever yeh want me to."

Megatron inwardly smirked, pleased by his new subordinate's bloodlust. "All in good time, Quickstrike," he smiled as he half turned to look over his shoulder towards the far side of the room where a large circular cage stood. It's electrified bars cast a dull, flickering blue glow over the motionless figure laying inside. "But first, there are more important matters to attend to…"

A hush fell over the room as Megatron slowly made his way towards the cage and the prisoner inside. Coming within the last few paces of it, Megatron stopped and let his optics wander over the prone figure of his ex-lieutenant. Dinobot lay on her side in a twisted pile, her limbs bent at odd angles from where Terrorsaur had carelessly dumped her.

_Her_… Even several solar-cycles after reviewing the footage of Waspinator's memories, Megatron still found it hard to believe that the battle-hardened mech he'd once fought for leadership of the Predacons with was really a femme. The idea was just so contrary to everything the tyrant had come to expect from those of the opposite programming. Never had he heard of, let alone _seen_, a femme with such a vicious passion for fighting as Dinobot. That wasn't to say he didn't find this latest development detracting. If anything, it made the mystic of his ex-lieutenant even more fascinating.

Such power. Such tenacity. Such… unbridled ambition. Even when still masquerading as a mech, Dinobot had captured Megatron's attention. It was one of the reasons he'd made Dinobot his first lieutenant. He'd wanted to keep the warrior close. It'd been a complete shame when he'd had to drive the power-hungry raptor out of their midst and into Primal's arms.

But now… Now the warrior was back. And more interesting than ever. If only he could have that power by his side once again…

"You can stop pretending to be offline, Dinobot," he calmly called to the motionless figure. "I know you're awake. Come. Show yourself for who you really are to your former comrades."

Like two points of fire flaring to life, Dinobot's optics flashed online. They swung up towards Megatron and locked with his through the crackling blue bars of energy. Like a predator sizing up a dangerous enemy, the raptor slowly picked herself up off the ground and stood. Just as Megatron expected, Dinobot stood straight and tall, her back and shoulders stiff with tension.

He smiled. This was what he'd missed: the raptor's confrontational attitude, her defiant streak and brash sense of self-confidence.

"Megatron…" Dinobot greeted, drawling his name out through her dentals with a snarl.

The warlord was slightly surprised by the warrioress's new voice. No longer was it a grating hiss of consonants and vowels, but rather one smooth flow of sound - like the deadly whisper of a blade slicing empty air.

Taking a confident step forward, Megatron began a slow circuit around the cage. He made a show of letting his optics run slowly up and down his ex-lieutenant's new frame. Dinobot, meanwhile, remained completely still, not moving a single muscle except for the swivel of blood-red optics and slight tilt of her head as she tracked Megatron's movement around her. Her dentals were bared in a sneer of utter hatred and contempt. Megatron could almost feel the prickle of the warrioress's gaze on him as he continued his assessment. Despite himself, the tyrant couldn't help but thank the Matrix he'd thought ahead and ordered Tarantulas to disconnect the traitor's optic lasers before Terrorsaur dumped her in the cage.

Meanwhile, Megatron continued his examination and hummed appreciatively under his vents. He was overall pleased by what he saw. Although Dinobot was not what one would call a beauty, especially when compared to another such as Blackarachnia, there was a certain element to her he'd never seen in another femme before. There was a harshness -an _edge_ - to her Megatron was not too proud to admit he found extremely attractive. A certain… defiant confidence in the way she held herself and stood. It was almost as if she were subconsciously trying to challenge someone into beating her back into line.

Megatron finally finished his circle and came to a stop in front of the warrioress. "It seems quite a bit has changed since the last time we've met," he said, optics still roaming freely over the raptor's superstructure.

"Except for my appearance, nothing has changed," Dinobot snarled back at him. "I can still tear you and anyone else you send at me apart with nothing but my own servos." If it wasn't for the electrified bars holding her prisoner, the tyrant had no doubt the warrioress would have leapt at him and proceeded to do just that.

Megatron's lips curled back in a pleased smirk. That was it. There was the raptor's combative attitude he knew so well. "Yes, perhaps for you nothing has changed, but for me the revelation of this little secret of yours has made me reconsider some of our past… disagreements."

Dinobot stared at him, her facial plates a mask of cautious scrutiny. "What do you want with me?" she demanded, optics narrowed into two fine slits. Although it was asked in the same steel-edged tone she would deliver a threat, the slight shifting of weight between her taloned feet betrayed the warrioress's unease.

Megatron grinned wider at the sight and took a tentative step closer to the caged raptor. He made sure to maintain a safe distance from the bars though. He'd learned the hard way over the years since meeting Dinobot to never underestimate the creativity of how she inflicted harm onto others. Whenever Dinobot was involved, it was always best to treat her with the same cautious respect one would give a loaded blaster with a feather-light trigger.

"What do I want with you?" he parroted in a velvety smooth rumble. "You are a skilled warrior. Deadly on the battlefield. Intelligent. Strong. Just… misguided in your current loyalties. I am willing to overlook your past treachery if you agree to rejoin our cause. The Predacons could crush the Maximals and end this war right now if we had your strength and knowledge on our side again."

Dinobot stared at him, her body rigid with distrust. "Why now?" she snarled. "Why only now have you taken an interest in recruiting me back?"

Megatron chuckled. "I admit I've always been intrigued by you and your more abrasive personality. Even after your betrayal I recognized the loss our side took when you joined Primal's crew. And this latest development - finding out you've really been a femme this entire time while fooling everybody, even _me_, in the process - has piqued my interest even more."

He took a slow, measured step closer, his optics boring into Dinobot's. "You would be a fitting queen to rule by my side once I defeat the Maximals and conquer this primitive planet. When we return to Cybertron I will need another to help lead my army and spread my will across the planet. You could be that one. You would be my Second in Command and share in the glory of my victory. You would have respect, wealth and power - answerable to no one else except me. All I ask for in return is your obedience and your submission…"

For a long moment of silence Dinobot did not answer. She stared at Megatron with an unreadable expression. For a brief moment, Megatron allowed himself to believe he'd actually struck a cord in the warrioress. Whether mech or femme, he knew one of Dinobot's greatest ambitions in life was the pursuit of power and the chance to seize command for herself.

But before he could entertain such fantasies of swaying his ex-lieutenant back to his side for very long, the warrioress seemed to shake herself out of some kind of trance. Her facial plates warping into a gruesome snarl, she glared at Megatron with a look of such hatred and contempt it would have smelt iron if it were physically possible. "Submission?" she hissed between bared dentals. "And just what kind of submission would you have of me? The same kind of scraping submission as your other sycophants, or submission of a more personal kind? The kind that would make me your own personal toy?"

The warrioress's body was now a quivering mass of rage. Fire virtually crackled in her optics. "Well, here is my answer to you, Megatron," she spat. "_No_. Respect, wealth and power you offer me, but at what price? I will not degrade myself by becoming your glorified slave. I will gain those things on my own merit. And I will see you as a smoking pile of scrape metal for ever thinking I would sell my honor to someone like _you_!"

Then, curling her fingers into a tight fist, the warrioress dropped into a crouch and rammed her fist through the cage's metal flooring halfway up to her elbow as easily as she would punch through an empty cardboard box. Viciously wrenching her arm back out, she brought with it a handful of frayed and sparking wires. The electrified bars of the cage flickered once, twice, then blinked completely out of existence.

Megatron didn't even have time to recognize any feelings of fear or surprise before a bloodthirsty battle cry echoed through the ship's lower deck and Dinobot threw herself out of the cage, her optics focused on no one else but him. Her claws and teeth bared she lunged at warlord, no doubt with every intention of tearing his throat out.

A chorus of startled shouts erupted through the room.

Megatron tensed, prepared to meet his ex-lieutenant's attack. But before the warrioress could cover the last few feet, a red and silver blur suddenly appeared between Megatron and Dinobot. There was a burst of flames, and then an angry shriek of pain from Dinobot.

"You shall not harm the Royalty, traitor!" Inferno bellowed over the warrioress's enraged howls.

As if not even aware of the burns blistering the front of her chest, Dinobot rounded on the both of them, lips pulled back in a snarl of near mindless rage.

Somewhere behind him, Megatron heard Waspinator give a terrified wail and flee the room at top speed. No matter. By now his other men had shaken themselves out of their dazes and pulled their weapons.

This gross imbalance of numbers, however, barely seemed to register in Dinobot's processor as she lowered herself into a deep battle stance. Then, without even a battle cry to herald the coming onslaught of violence, the room became a chaotic kaleidoscope of movement, laser fire, flames and shouts.

As several of his men leapt to intercept the rampaging warrioress, Megatron was once again struck by the sheer strength and feral grace of his former subordinate. Dinobot moved as if possessed - dodging, feigning, lunging, and slashing at each new opponent as if it were as natural to her as cycling air. If there really was some mythical Overlord of the Pit, she would have been that deity's living embodiment on earth.

As he watched the mounting violence, Dinobot raked her claws across the side of Terrorsaur's face as the mech lunged at her from the side. Bright pink energon splattered the ground and ran a fine, misty trail up the nearby wall. The flier screeched in pain and dropped to his knees, clutching his shredded facial plates. Energon seeped between his fingers and fell to the ground in a growing puddle of fuscia.

The new mech, Silverbolt, moved forward to engage Dinobot next, but was slammed into the nearest wall with nothing more than a vicious elbow to the chest plate. The fuzor crumpled to the floor, wheezing and gasping for breath.

A surge of irritation coursed through Megatron at the sight. Was this really all his forces were capable of? Warrior or not, Dinobot was still but a single femme going up against half a dozen other 'bots. If this wasn't testament to the warrioress's skills, it was at least an embarrassing testament to his army's own. Just another reason why he needed Dinobot back under his command…

"Come on over here, missy, and try takin' me on," Quickstrike drawled as Dinobot swung away from Silverbolt back towards her intended target.

The raptor growled deep in the back of her throat. Energon dripped from the ends of her claws as she turned to face the teal and gold fuzor. "Do not test me, insect. I will rip that second head of yours off at the shoulder."

Quickstrike actually had the audacity (or more accurately: stupidity) to laugh. "What's a lil' femme like you gonna do ta me?" he chuckled. "Yeh ain't got what it takes to take on a real mech."

Megatron could almost see the anger bubbling in his ex-lieutenant's chest before it finally burst from her mouth in a coolant-freezing howl. There was a blurred streak of movement - the afterimage of Dinobot leaping and twisting midair to shoot one taloned foot towards the fuzor registering somewhere in Megatron's processor several seconds later - before Quickstrike gave an agonized scream and his right arm, a cobra-headed limb which doubled as a lazar gun, clattered lifelessly to the ground by his feet.

"Yeh blasted femme!" Quickstrike howled as he clutched the stump of his severed limb with his other hand. "I'll get yeh back fer that, yeh hear me!"

But Dinobot was no longer paying any attention to him. Her optics were once again locked onto Megatron.

Inferno tensed in front of Megatron, his flamethrower held out and trained on the ex-Predacon warrior. It hummed in his hand as if it were alive and hungry to consume the raptor in a fiery plume of heat and light.

But Megatron wasn't about to let anyone needlessly damage his prize anymore than she always was. He wanted her intact.

"Stand down, Inferno," he said, his optics never leaving those of his ex-lieutenant. "I'll handle this. She's mine..."

The fire-ant seemed unsure, as if he were beginning to question his leader's sanity. But then with an obedient nod he reluctantly stepped aside.

No one else stepped forward to interfere. All the other Predacons by now had drifted to the farthest edges of the room - as far away from the female raptor as they could get without going so far that they could later be accused of desertion.

Megatron and Dinobot stared at each other, separated by less than a dozen feet. The warrioress crouched low, body tense. Arms akimbo to her body, her hands flexed. Her fingers curled inward until they resembled the shape of miniature scythes. Thick droplets of mech-fluid dripped from the tip of each of claw. Dinobot's optics glowed brightly in the murky gloom of the ship's lower deck, giving her an almost demonic appearance.

_Beautiful…_ Megatron, not for the first time, thought as he studied his ex-lieutenant. Such power. Such savage elegance. He had to have her. Even if it was the last thing he did.

"What are you waiting for, my dear Dinobot? It's just you and me now, just like you wanted," Megatron taunted in a silky voice. Knowing it would infuriate her into acting recklessly, he threw a suave grin at her for good measure. "Come. I know how much you want nothing more than to get your claws on me…"

Just as he'd come to expect from the quick-tempered warrior, near mindless rage filled Dinobot's optics. Her face contorted with outrage and contempt. "By the time I am finished with you there won't be enough pieces left to add to the scrap heap," she snarled through her vents. Then with no more fanfare, she charged, a thunderous battle cry echoing through the Darksyde's lower level.

In less than three strides she covered the distance separating her and the warlord. She leapt at him, talons extended. But Megatron had already prepared himself. If there was one flaw in the warrioress's battle technique, it was her weakness for being goaded into attacking directly head-on.

Sliding one pede back, he shifted to the side just as Dinobot's clawed foot came rushing towards his face. Using the raptor's forward momentum against her, Megatron whipped his arm's plasma canon up and around so that it caught Dinobot squarely in the side. Dinobot went flying and slammed to the ground in a twisted pile of limbs.

The warrioress did not stay down for long, however, and rolled back to her feet with a blood-thirsty roar. Optics bright with blood-lust she lunged at Megatron again. This time Megatron was not able to react so quickly and grunted heavily as the warrioress's claws made contact with his chest and left three long symmetrical lines in their wake. Mech-fluid immediately welled in each of the cuts and seeped over the edges of torn metal down his chest.

Megatron growled under his breath. This was unacceptable. As fun as it was goading his ex-lieutenant into reckless attacks, the warrioress was still a skilled fighter and Megatron had no desire to be torn to ribbons. He had to end this. Dinobot was lost in her battle-programming now and no longer thinking coherently. He would play more with her later when he had more control over the situation…

Dinobot came at him again. By her body language Megatron knew she was preparing to swing her leg at him in a kick. Timing it just right for when the warrioress shifted her weight back to lift her foot -leaving herself momentarily off balanced - the warlord lunged forward and grabbed her. Using his greater weight and size, Megatron lifted Dinobot clear off the floor and slammed her backwards into a nearby wall.

The warrioress cried out in pain as she was crushed between the wall and the tyrant's larger superstructure. Megatron quickly seized Dinobot's wrists and pinned them against the wall above her head. Dinobot glared up at him, her lips pulled back in a fearsome snarl. Megatron felt her shift against him, trying to swing one leg out to slash at him with her raptor claw.

"No you don't," he said as he shifted his body so that his legs now pinned both of Dinobot's knees to the wall, completely immobilizing her. "We don't want anyone else getting hurt by those claws of yours, now do we?"

Dinobot did not actually answer. But by the murderous fury burning in her optics Megatron could venture a guess at what kind of thoughts were running through his ex-lieutenant's processor.

Megatron gave a long, slow chuckle as he gazed down into Dinobot's optics. "Still so predictably easy to goad into fighting…" he murmured. He slowly leaned closer to Dinobot, although being careful to keep his distance in case the femme suddenly decided to lunge forward and rip his throat out with her teeth. "You know, I half expected you to decline my offer like that. But that's exactly why I want you back. You're my only worthy challenge. You have an iron will I will take the greatest pleasure in breaking and molding to my own taste."

"I will die before I ever become your puppet," Dinobot snarled back at him.

Megatron smirked. "Once again, something I already expected you to say. But no matter. I've already taken your stubborn pride into account…" Shifting his grip on Dinobot's wrists so that he held both of them in one hand, Megatron tapped open the panel of a small storage compartment on his forearm. From its depths he removed a syringe filled with a dark bluish colored mixture. The liquid gleamed malevolently in the murky light.

Dinobot's optics swung up to see what Megatron held. At the sight of the needle, the warrioress tensed and immediately began to struggle against the warlord's hold with renewed purpose. Megatron grinned at his captive's useless struggles. Despite all of Dinobot's skills and power, she was still no match against Megatron in a contest of raw strength.

"Hush, hush now," he soothed in a mocking voice as he leaned down closer to the struggling warrioress. "This will just keep you quiet and make you more… amiable to my offer, ye-ess. I had Tarantulas concoct this especially for you." Then with no more fanfare, he drove the needle deep into the side of Dinobot's neck.

The warrioress screamed - mostly out of helpless rage. She continued to struggle even as Megatron pushed the plunger down, emptying the syringe's contents into her energon lines.

Dinobot felt her body grow heavy and weak as the tyrant finished injecting the mysterious substance and carelessly tossed the empty syringe to the side. It felt as if all her energy was draining from her like water through a sieve. A murky gray haze rose to ring the perimeter of her vision and she suddenly felt that it was entirely too much effort to continue fighting against the steel-like hands holding her captive. Although she fought to keep herself from slipping into the foggy haze that seemed to reach out for her, Dinobot could not seem to find the strength to stop from slumping against Megatron's hold back against the wall. She felt her muscles un-tense and relax against her will as if they'd all just been turned to low-grade rubber. Her processor felt somehow disconnected from the rest of her body.

And just before she slipped completely away from herself into the drug's hazy embrace, the last thing Dinobot was truly aware of was Megatron leering down at her with a triumphant grin on his face…

* * *

"We hafta get her back!" Rattrap railed as he desperately stared up at Optimus Primal.

"We're going to get Dinobot back, Rattrap, but we can't just attack the Darksyde without some kind of plan," Optimus calmly replied. "The Predacons now outnumber us by more than three. We can't just rush in guns blazing."

"But who knows wha' they're doin' ta her!" Rattrap cried, furiously whipping away from Optimus to pace the Axalon's main deck. "Dat overgrown purple lizard might be torturin' her ta death fer all we know!"

"I highly doubt that," Rhinox cut in from where he stood a short distance away near one of the computer consols. Airazor and Tigatron stood not far away behind him. "Dinobot's a valuable bargaining card. He might be planning to ransom her, or use her to somehow lure us out and attack."

"So what're ya sayin'? Dat we just leave her with 'em?" Rattrap angrily growled.

"Of course not," Optimus shook his head. "But Cheetor won't be functional for at least another five mega-cycles, and there's no way we can mount a rescue mission with the number of 'bots we have right now. We have to wait until he comes out of the CR-tank."

Rattrap forced himself to push down the rising waves of impatience and glanced at the set of CR-tanks lining the far side of the bridge. A single red light glowed above one of them, marking the tank Cheetor currently recovered in. It had been close for the young Maximal. He almost hadn't made it back to base. It had only been by sheer luck that Tigatron had only been one sector away from where he'd originally spotted Megatron's men earlier that morning. If Tigatron hadn't responded to Dinobot's request for backup as quickly as he had, Rattrap was almost certain he wouldn't have been able to stem the worst of Cheetor's energon loss by himself before more backup finally arrived and Primal airlifted Cheetor back to base.

It had been a close call. But as relieved Rattrap should have been knowing the young racer wasn't going to go offline anytime soon, Dinobot's abduction dampened any feelings of jubilation he might have had. In fact, as bad as he should have felt about it, Rattrap honestly didn't feel anything either way concerning Cheetor. He was too preoccupied running worst case scenarios through his processor to really care about anything else except the missing warrioress.

"So what's da plan den?" Rattrap demanded, once again turning towards Optimus. "Once da kid gets outta da tank, what're we gonna do ta get Choppa'face back?"

"Perhaps if we attacked the Predacon ship from two sides," Tigatron suggested. "Half our forces could be used as a distraction while the other half sneaks aboard to rescue Dinobot."

"It's as good a plan as any," Rhinox shrugged.

Rattrap glanced at Optimus, anxiously willing him to accept this plan or at least offer another.

Optimus silently considered Tigatron's proposal for a long moment - Rattrap itching to demand that he hurry and give them his answer - before he finally gave a reluctant nod. "Very well. That will be our plan for the time being. Once Cheetor's out of the CR-tank we move out."

An almost dizzying wave of relief washed over Rattrap. They were going to get Dinobot back.

_Just hold on a'lil longer, Lizard Lips, _Rattrap silently begged._ We're gonna get ya back. Even if da last thing I do…_

To Be Continued…

So, good? Bad? Somewhere in between?

PLEASE REVIEW!


	5. Out of Options

Sorry for the delay, but my motivation's been kind of low as of late. I know this is a smaller fandom, but sometimes the lack of feedback, whether positive or negative, is kind of disheartening. I'm not planning to discontinue this fic by any means. This is just an FYI that updates might be a little farther and few between from now on. Life's also been starting to be a real bitch lately…

**Chapter Five: Out of Options**

Blackarachnia stood with one hip against the railing of a hover platform, arms folded across her chest. Her platform hovered several feet from the edge of the Darksyde's main bridge deck. Scattered across the bridge were her fellow Predacons. Terrorsaur was currently explaining the ship's computer and security systems to the two new recruits, Silverbolt and Quickstrike. He'd been volunteered for the job by Megatron besides also being ordered to give the two a tour of the base - something which the red flier had not been particularly pleased about. Nor Blackarachnia for that matter seeing as how she'd then had to listen to the pteradon's screechy whining about it.

The rest of her comrades were busy tapping away at computer consoles or manning security screens. Megatron had given strict orders to increase the ship's security. Although there hadn't been any sign of Maximal activity yet, there was no doubt in anyone's processor they'd try to mount some kind of rescue attempt. It was only a matter of time really. They were just too predictable to have to put much effort into guessing what their next move would be.

Megatron, meanwhile - Blackarachnia noted with a contemptuous glance - was currently lounging in the bridge's command chair, looking for all the world as pleased as the cat who'd just caught the proverbial canary. Inferno stood just behind Megatron, ever the proud and watchful sentry. But what made Blackarachnia's lips curl in distaste was not the egotistical tyrant or his overzealous bodyguard, but rather the slouched figure to Megatron's right, standing there as quiet and docile as a service droid.

Dinobot barely seemed aware of where she was, let alone who was sitting so puffed up and pleased with himself beside her. Shoulders hunched forward and head bowed as though weighed down by some intense fatigue, the warrioress stood in a drugged stupor like a living shadow of her former self. Nowhere in the other femme could Blackarachnia see any hint of Dinobot's infamous pride or fiery temper.

Dinobot's optics were dim, as if they were only functioning at half power. They stared blankly into the distance as if looking at everything and nothing at once. If the black widow hadn't known better, she would have almost said they were the optics of an animated doll which perhaps really wasn't that far away from the truth.

Whatever chemical Megatron had injected Dinobot with had turned the once fearsome warrioress into a silent, subservient automaton. Nothing seemed to register in the raptor's central processor except direct commands and simple yes-no questions. It was as if she was unable to do anything more high-function, or as if her processor had been completely wiped clean of personality and self-actualizing intelligence.

A doll. Yes, an empty lifeless doll. That was exactly what Tarantulas's concoction had turned the female warrior into. It was enough to make Blackarachnia sick to the coolant tank.

As Blackarachnia watched from the other side of the bridge, Megatron casually reached out and ran the back of one finger down the length of Dinobot's forearm from elbow to wrist. To the unobservant eye, the gesture might have almost looked like something shared between two lovers. But Blackarachnia saw it for what it really was:

Possessiveness. Pure and simple in its basest form.

The finger Megatron trailed along the warrioress's forearm was not one of tenderness or love, but rather possessive greed. It was a testament of power. A physical show of the control he held over his ex-lieutenant. For the last several hours Blackarachnia had had to watch the warlord parade his drugged captive around the Darksyde like some kind of trophy - the warrioress putting up absolutely no resistance to Megatron's prompting.

It was becoming increasingly difficult for the female spider to hide her disgust as Megatron became more and more bold with his caresses while Dinobot remained as dead to the world as a protoform in stasis lock. It was to the point where he was almost constantly touching her. Whether it be a single digit making one long, slow pass down the side of her arm, or a possessive hand resting on her shoulder plate, Megatron seemed consumed with a need to physically reaffirm his power over the warrioress.

Blackarachnia was not the only one who seemed to have a problem with Dinobot's situation. Although he'd spoken only a handful of words since arriving - not a word of which actually towards her - Blackarachnia had seen the disapproving glances the new mech, Silverbolt, kept throwing towards Megatron and his captive. Nor had she missed the way his eyes narrowed or the way his mouth turned down at the corners in silent disapproval whenever Megatron let his fingers linger too long on the raptor's arm or flattened his palm against the small of her back to help guide her unsteady, almost drunken steps.

His finger finishing its downward stroke, Megatron dragged it back up the warrioress's arm to her elbow. A gleeful smirk twisted the warlord's face the entire time.

Dinobot, meanwhile, did not react. Megatron might as well have run his hand down the length of a wall for all the reaction he got. Not that the tyrant seemed to mind, Blackarachnia noted with contempt. Probably because he knew if he'd tried anything like this when Dinobot had still been in control of her facilities, he would have had his arm amputated at the shoulder joint for his unforgivable breech of personal space.

But not now. Now he had full control over his wayward ex-lieutenant, and by what Blackarachnia could see Dinobot didn't look like she was even aware enough to know she should be trying to fight back.

Needless to say it was rather sickening to watch, even for someone as desensitized and apathetic to another bot's misfortune as Blackarachnia was.

"And that's all you need to know for now," Terrorsaur's voice brought Blackarachnia out of her thoughts. She glanced over at the flier and his two students who stood not far away near one of the main computer stations. "Questions?" he asked. His tone was one that suggested if the two of them wanted to walk away with all four limbs still attached the answer had better be 'no.'

Silverbolt and Quickstrike both shook their heads.

Terrorsaur nodded to himself as if relieved to finally be free of the two. But just as he turned to walk away, Silverbolt spoke up and forced the flier to pause and look back over his shoulder.

"Is this normal Predacon protocol for holding enemy prisoners?" the fuzor said as he glanced towards Megatron and the quiet figure beside him. "This method of restraint just doesn't seem… right."

Terrorsaur snorted under his vents. "Of course not," he sneered. "Usually if we capture a Maximal we throw them in a stasis cage and leave them there to rot until we need them. But Dinobot's an exception. Megatron's always had something of an… obsession for her. She used to be a Predacon - his first lieutenant actually. But then she defected to the Maximals. Primus only knows why Megatron wants to keep that traitor around. She's nothing but trouble."

"Damn femme needs ta be deactivated," Quickstrike took the opportunity to speak up. "She cut off my shootin' arm. I should just blast her in the spark chamber and be done wit' her." The gold and teal mech's circuits were obviosuly still running hot from his brief encounter with the warrioress. His reattached cobra head hissed dangerously by his side as he glared in Dinobot's direction.

"Lizard-bot's scary," Waspinator timidly warbled from the other side of the bridge. "Waspinator doesn't like lizard-bot here. She'll try to cut his head off again when she wakes up."

"Would you get over that already!" Terrorsaur snapped with an exasperate huff. "You barely spent two mega-cycle in the CR-tank getting your head fused back on. That traitor's not going to 'wake up,' and neither is she going to cut anyone else's head off."

Waspinator, however, didn't seem as confident as his fellow flier and shot a fearful glance towards Dinobot who continued to stand by Megatron's side as silent and lifeless as a drone.

Terrorsaur sneered at Waspinator's terrified expression and briefly followed his gaze back towards the drugged warrioress. "She's sure managed to cause a lot of trouble," he snarled more to himself than anyone else there. "Who would have ever thought a femme could cause so much damage in such a short amount of time…"

"What, you think mechs are the only ones who know how to wreak havoc?" Blackarachnia finally decided to insert herself into the conversation. "Keep talking like that and I'll make sure I show you just how much 'trouble' _I_ can cause."

Terrorsaur shot Blackarachnia a dirty look. "I'd be quiet if I were you. I don't remember seeing you help fight when the traitor broke out of that cage and tried to deactivate all of us."

The spider gave a condescending snort. "That's because I'm smart enough to know not to gamble with my life. I have no desire to get myself torn to shreds just so Megatron can win himself some glorified toy. Only a fool would go up against a bot like Dinobot and expect to come out in one piece."

Despite his obstinate expression, Blackarachnia did not miss the way Terrorsaur's hand unconsciously rose to the side of his face to finger the place when Dinobot had slashed his facial plates open with nothing more than a fluid snap of her wrist. Although no marks remained since Terrorsaur's brief time in the CR-tank, she had no doubt the red flier could still feel the sting of the warrioress's claws.

Turning her back on the sobered pteradon, Blackarachnia stepped off her hover platform onto the bridge. "You know it's dangerous keeping Dinobot here like this, don't you, Megatron?" she called as she confidently strode towards the command chair to confront the mech sitting there. "That chemical's not going to hold her forever. You're gambling with not only yours but all of our lives too keeping her here like this."

Megatron flashed Blackarachnia a lazy, self-confident smirk. "Have some faith in our crew's scientist, Blackarachnia. Tarantulas spent more than fifty mega-cycles developing this marvelous little concoction. I have total confidence in his chemical engineering skills."

From the other side of the bridge, Tarantulas proudly nodded. "My chemical compound is flawless. I designed it to inhibit one's neural circuits from firing above a rudimentary level, making the subject susceptible to outside suggestions such as coaxing or direct commands. The subject is completely unable to resist. It's perfect - the product of pure scientific genius!"

Blackarachnia stood silent, an intense surge of loathing pulsing through her circuits.

From his seat, Megatron chuckled softly under his intakes. Glancing at the silent warrioress beside him he once again reached a hand across the short distance separating them and let his index finger trace a feather-light line up and down Dinobot's forearm.

"Too true…" he agreed as the warrioress did nothing more than sluggishly blink her optics in response. "A product of pure genius…" Letting his hand fall back to the chair's armrest, Megatron turned his attention back to Blackarachnia. "But as brilliant as Tarantulas's invention is, I have no intention of keeping my dear ex-lieutenant in such a state forever. I'd miss out on all her threats and violent temper tantrums otherwise. No, this chemical is only a temporary restraint until I can find a more permanent solution to her stubborn unwillingness to cooperate. I've been considering something along the lines of a modified sparkbond. With her spark bound to mine, she'd have no way of terminating me without simultaneously killing herself in the process. In fact, to ensure her own survival she'd have to work to protect mine. It's almost comical how simple such a plan would be. Not only would it guarantee that my little warrioress doesn't try to offline me the first opportunity she gets, it would also ensure her place by my side, yes. Brilliant, is it not?"

Blackarachnia had to bite her tongue to keep from voicing her true feelings on the matter. She had no wish to earn herself an early termination this day. Nonetheless, she was unable to keep the revulsion completely out of her voice as she tightly replied, "You could kill her doing that. If Dinobot already shares a bond with someone or even has a strong attraction towards another, you could kill her by forcing her into a sparkbond with you."

Megatron gave a derisive scoff. "And just who would Dinobot have a bond with? She is a trained killer. An experienced warrior. Where in Primal's pathetic crew would she find anyone worthy of her attention? I still marvel at times how she's managed to put up with those Maximals' sickeningly sweet sentiments for as long as she has. No, I have no concerns about her already sharing a bond with someone. It's not in her programming to accept anyone less powerful than herself as a mate. And there is no one in Primal's company who comes anywhere close to fulfilling those requirements."

Blackarachnia grit her dentals in disdain. "Nevertheless," she sneered, "the Maximals _will _come for her eventually. They consider her one of their own. Her being here's going to cause nothing but trouble."

"I have no doubt they will," Megatron replied with an unconcerned shrug. "But what are they really going to do to us? We now outnumber them and currently have their best fighter in our custody. They're helpless."

Getting slowly to his feet, Megatron turned towards his captive. Dinobot remained a silent statue as he ran the tip of one finger down the side of her helm in an almost tender caress. "It doesn't matter what Primal or his crew tries to do. Dinobot's back where she rightfully belongs, and I have no intention of letting her go again, yess..."

Lost in her own little world, Dinobot stared ahead past Megatron as if looking at something a million light-years away.

It took all of Blackarachnia's restraint not to turn her back on the scene. Even when still masquerading as a mech, Blackarachnia had come to begrudgedly respect the ex-Predacon's skills and fierce sense of honor. And to see the proud warrior now - reduced to nothing more than a living zombie - was enough to disgust her to the very core of her spark. At the risk of sounding like one of those peace-loving Maximals: it just wasn't right…

Gently thumbing the edge of Dinobot's faceguard, Megatron hooked one finger underneath the warrioress's chin and tilted her face up so that her optics blankly gazed in his direction. "Such strength…" he murmured. "I look forward to the day I no longer have to keep you drugged like this. You'd like that too, wouldn't you, Dinobot?"

Whether it was an honest answer or a response merely coaxed from her by Megatron's smooth, cajoling tone, Dinobot numbly nodded her head. "Yes…" she mumbled, staring up at Megatron with unfocused optics.

Her answer seemed to please Megatron, for with a last almost reverent sweep of his thumb against Dinobot's faceguard he released her chin and stepped back. "Come," he ordered, turning towards one of several hallways leading off the bridge. "There's no need for us to stay here any longer. I think you've behaved yourself quite nicely all things considered, and have earned the opportunity to rest for awhile."

That self-satisfied leer was once again on Megatron's face which made Blackarachnia briefly fantasize about aiming a blaster between the warlord's optics and squeezing the trigger.

Megatron began to move away, obviously expecting Dinobot to follow. But instead of obediently trailing after him like she'd done all day, the warrioress remained riveted in place. She stood completely motionless, as if frozen, staring at some undefined point on the ground several meters in front of her. Blackarachnia curiously studied the other femme's face. Although still devoid of any actual awareness, the black widow noticed for the first time since Dinobot's drugging a gleam of something spark in the back of the raptor's optics - like the dying embers of a fire momentarily flaring back to life as a gentle breeze blew across their surface.

By now, Megatron had noticed his ex-lieutenant's absence behind him and stopped to look back over his shoulder. His optics narrowed. "Dinobot, come," he called in a soft but unquestionably authoritative voice.

As if moving on automatic, the warrioress shifted her weight and slowly moved towards the waiting tyrant. Megatron smirked as she came up beside him, and reached out to snake one arm around her back and rest his hand on her opposite hip. "That's better," he murmured, craning his head down towards the unresponsive femme's audio receptor. "You'll eventually learn that your place is nowhere else except by my side."

Blackarachnia silently fought back the wave of nausea that rose in the back of her intake line.

Megatron, with Dinobot close in tow, once again began moving towards the bridge's exit. But just before they could leave, a piercing alarm suddenly rent the air. The warlord immediately halted, dragging Dinobot to a stop as well beside him.

"The outer perimeter's security sensors have been tripped," Silverbolt called as he scanned down a list of information on one of the computer screens.

Terrorsaur leaned over another terminal and hastily brought up the live feed from one of the ship's many surveillance cameras. "It's the Maximals," he reported with a screechy sneer. "It looks like Optimus and at least two others. They're trying to sneak towards the ship from the northwest. They're only about two hundred yards away from the main lift."

Blackarachnia shot Megatron a condescending glare. "Told you so…"

Megatron, however, ignored the black widow. He dropped his hold on Dinobot and strode back towards one of the bridge's computer consols to pull up his own video feed. The warrioress remained where he'd left her, unmoving. "So Primal thinks he can steal my lieutenant back from me," he mused in a tight voice. "Well, he's sorely mistaken if he thinks I'm going to just let him waltz onboard my ship and take my property."

"My Queen, please allow me to deal with the intruders!" Inferno beseeched. "I will teach those filthy Maximals not to attack the colony!"

"Yes," Megatron nodded, his facial plates set in an angry scowl. "But I'm going with you, along with Quickstrike and Terrorsaur. Silverbolt, Waspinator, Tarantulas, you are to fall back to the opposite side of the ship. No doubt Primal is planning to try and sneak in a second team from another direction. Those Maximals would risk nothing less than their entire crew to save another. I'd scoff at their foolish sentiments if it didn't make it so easy to predict their movements."

"And what about me?" Blackarachnia said as the others all began to head for the exits.

"Don't worry. I haven't forgotten about you, Blackarachnia," Megatron said with a smirk as he turned away from the computer screen. "I want you to take Dinobot back to her holding cage. This battle is sure to turn nasty very quickly and I have no desire to see my prize get hurt in the fight. When I terminate Optimus I want to know that she is waiting for me somewhere safe and sound."

Striding back towards the motionless warrioress, Megatron reached out and ran his fingers one last time down Dinobot's upper arm like a lover's farewell. But unlike every other time the warlord let his hands wander the female raptor's superstructure unchecked, Dinobot did not remain a passive statue. Her optics were still unnaturally dim and stared ahead into nothingness. But unlike before, Dinobot seemed to register Megatron's hand on her and took a small, half-shuffle step away from him and his questing fingers. She did not go any farther, but she noticeably leaned her upper body away from Megatron - the same way one would shift their body out of the way of a slightly uncomfortable draft.

For a moment Megatron didn't seem to know how to react. But then as if shaking himself out of a trance, the tyrant's face dipped into an unpleasant frown. "Hm. So it seems we finally found the timeframe on the potency of Tarantulas's concoction. That's fine. Now I know how long I have before I have to re-dose you." The warlord tapped open a small subspace compartment on his forearm and removed a slender needle from its depths. It was filled with the same noxious blue liquid as the first hypodermic he'd injected Dinobot with barely twelve hours before. "It wouldn't be good if you woke from its effects while I was outside fighting your comrades without anyone here to quell that infamous temper of yours…'

"I'm sorry I have to use this, but if Optimus hadn't shown up I could have finished preparations for our sparkbonding and put an end to this whole unpleasant situation." There was no reaction from the warrioress as he drove the syringe into the malleable upper part of her arm and released Tarantulas' chemical into her with one smooth sweep of the plunger. He leaned closer to Dinobot to whisper in her audios. "I can't wait to hear what colorful curses you come up with once I release you from this drug and you find out you're bound to me. Won't that be an interesting sight?"

Dinobot's only response as Megatron leaned away again was to drunkenly sway on her pedes as the drug's effects intensified and dragged her further under the oily black surface of its control. As she watched, Blackarachnia saw the weak points of light that had appeared in the warrioress's optics fade away to be replaced once again with that empty look of unawareness.

Megatron smiled as Dinobot's body seemed to sag inwards under its own weight. He reached out and once again let his fingers trail down the warrioress's arm. He received no kind of reaction.

"Excellent…" he murmured. He turned back to Blackarachnia. "Take her back to her cell and make sure she's comfortable. I want her well rested for after I dispose of our pesky 'guests.'"

Blackarachnia kept her facial plates carefully devoid of emotion until Megatron turned his back and walked out of the room. Left alone in the empty silence of the Darksyde's bridge with only Dinobot to see her, Blackarachnia finally let her revulsion show.

"Agh! That disgusting psychopath!" she spat. Blackarachnia glanced at her drugged companion and studied the slouched warrioress for a long moment of contemplative silence. "You know, I may have never cared much one way or another about what happens to another 'bot, but after being forced to watch that disgusting display I can't help but almost feel sorry for you."

The warrioress said nothing and continued to emptily stare into the distance as if Blackarachnia wasn't even there.

Blackarachnia took a tentative step closer to the other femme and stared into her lifeless optics. "No femme deserves this," she murmured sadly to herself. "Least of all you…" With a heavy sigh the spider glanced towards one of the doorways that led deeper into the heart of the ship. "Maybe you had the right idea all along leaving this pitiful cause and joining the Maximals. They certainly can't be any worst than staying here…"

Her mind made up, Blackarachnia turned towards the nearest hallway. "Come on," she impatiently motioned to Dinobot. "Let's get you out of here while those idiots are busy trying to blast each other to pieces. I personally don't want to be here to see how slagged off Megatron gets once he finds out you're gone."

Dinobot mindlessly trudged behind the black widow, and together the two femmes disappeared into the hallway's oppressive gloom.

* * *

Rattrap cautiously stole a glance around the side of the large volcanic outcrop of rocks he'd hidden behind. In the distance, the Darksyde sat like a hulking black mass of metal. It's underbelly reflected the marbled orangish-red glow of the lava flow the Predacon ship had had the misfortune of crash landing above. It was barely mid-morning, but darkness seemed to hang over this hellish span of Matrix-forsaken land like a shroud. No light seemed able to penetrate the thick cover of the toxic ash clouds that continually spewed from the nearby volcanos.

On either side of him, Optimus and Cheetor crouched low to the ground, weapons drawn and ready. Rattrap held his own blaster cocked upwards close to his shoulder - ready to swing out and fire in any direction.

"It's quiet," Optimus noted in a whispered voice. "I would have thought they'd have picked us up on their sensors by now."

"Maybe they're not planning to come out," Cheetor whispered back. "If they wanted to, the Preds could hole up in their ship for days."

"Dey better come out," Rattrap growled low through his intakes, his fingers unconsciously tightening around his blaster's grip. "'Cause if dey don't come _out_, I'm goin' _in_. An' I don't care who I'd hafta blast through ta do it."

"Power down, Rattrap," Optimus said. "We're all anxious to get Dinobot back, but charging in blasters firing isn't going to do any good. For now we have to stick to the plan. We don't even know where they're holding her. If we can't draw Megatron and some of the others out, there's no way Airazor, Tigatron and Rhinox will be able to sneak in to get Dinobot."

Rattrap clenched his dentals in helpless frustration. He knew the plan. He'd been there when they'd made it. But that didn't mean the fact that they had to wait for Megatron and his crew of misfits to make the first move didn't make Rattrap want to throw the entire plan to the Pit and (as Optimus had so aptly put it) 'rush in guns blazing.' Who knew what Megatron was doing to Dinobot. The overgrown lizard could be torturing her at that very moment. For all Rattrap knew he might have already terminated the surly warrioress as soon as Terrorsaur brought her back to base, which would make the Maximals' current rescue plan an entirely moot point. Dinobot had certainly done enough against her old comrades since she'd defected to earn herself such a fate…

But what if Megatron was planning something else? He'd surely be surprised to see his ex-lieutenant suddenly sporting a new femme superstructure, but would that influence how he dealt with Dinobot? Rattrap couldn't help but remember Inferno's parting words about Megatron wanting Dinobot back. What exactly did that mean? Did he want her back to exact revenge for her betrayal? Or perhaps for some other darker reason? What if he wanted her back for-?

No. He wouldn't let himself go any farther down that line of code. Not only did such thoughts make him want to physically scrub his neural circuits out with a steel pad, it made him want to purge his morning energon. The holo-images that sprang to his processor made his coolant tank churn with disgust.

_I swear ta Primus, if dat worthless scrap of metal's so much as laid a servo on her I'm gonna-_

Again Rattrap had to cut that line of code off as quickly as possible. His fingers were gripping his blaster so tightly his hand was physically shaking. It wouldn't do to lose control now. He had to keep a level processor. Their plan hinged on him, Optimus and Cheetor being able to draw the majority of the Predacons out of the ship, or at least give the others a good enough distraction to sneak aboard and find Dinobot. Because if they didn't get her back, or worst, were too late and found her already offlined Rattrap didn't know what he would do. They couldn't lose Dinobot. _He_ couldn't lose Dinobot. If the raptor was already gone-

Yet again, Rattrap had to cut himself off from processing any farther. A subtle tremor had begun to spread through his entire superstructure with his escalating thoughts. He was pretty sure even in the murky gloom that shrouded them that if Optimus or Cheetor happened to look in his direction at that moment they would have noticed the violent shaking of his superstructure.

He had to calm down. He had to pull himself together. If not for himself or the success of their plan, he had to stay calm for their missing comrade. Getting his wires in a twist wasn't going to help get Dinobot back any faster…

Taking a deep intake to settle his still jittery oscillators, Rattrap shifted to steal another quick glance around the jagged outcrop of rocks they'd taken cover behind. He was forced to quickly duck back behind, however, when a plume of fire suddenly came streaking towards him and scorched the area of rock he'd just poked his head out from black with heat.

"All enemies of the colony shall be incinerated!"

It didn't take an astrophysicist to guess who'd just fired on him. Nonetheless, Rattrap cautiously peaked his head around again to take stalk of his and his comrades new situation. Just as expected, Inferno stood not more than a hundred yards away with Megatron, Terrorsaur and a new mech Rattrap didn't recognize (undoubtedly one of the protoforms they'd lost the day before) standing not far behind him.

"Looks like da calvery's finally come outta play," Rattrap darkly muttered.

"Optimus, I know why you're here," Megatron's oily smooth voice called across the distance separating them, "but I assure you, you're wasting your time. I have no intentions of negotiating a release of prisoners."

"Let Dinobot go, Megatron," Optimus called back, unperturbed. His vocals were smooth and calm - the efforts of a true diplomat at spark. "If you release her to us unharmed, I promise you we'll leave quietly. No one has to get hurt. All we want is our teammate back."

Before his processor could catch up with his motor functions to stop him from doing anything stupid, Rattrap stood from behind their hiding place and angrily yelled in Megatron's direction, "Give her back, ya slaggin two ton piece 'a scrap!"

Despite the spy's colorful choice of words, Megatron gave an amused chuckle that dripped with confidence. "I don't think so," he drawled. "Dinobot belongs to me now. You might have enjoyed her company for awhile, but my lieutenant's finally found her way home and I have no intention of letting her go again."

"You Pit-spawned fragger!" Rattrap snarled. "She'd never agree ta stay wit' you!"

"On the contrary," Megatron smirked. "She's quite comfortable where she is. I just had to give her something to take the fire out of that infamous temper of hers. At the moment she's as quiet and subservient as a house-droid, as hard as that might be to believe. I don't plan to keep her like that forever though. Once I'm done dealing with you pathetic Maximals, I plan to make Dinobot and my _bond_ something much more permanent, ye-esss..."

If he hadn't been so spark-consumingly enraged at that moment by the suggestive, lurid tone of the tyrant's voice, Rattrap was pretty sure he would have been physically sick to his intakes.

"You slaggin' monster…" Rattrap hissed, unable to articulate anything more biting. His superstructure had once again begun to shake at the joints with barely contained disgust and rage.

Megatron's only reply was an infuriatingly casual smirk.

Unable to stand the sight of that self-assured, sludge-dripping grin anymore, Rattrap straightened from behind the thick ridge of rocks and raised his blaster in Megatron's direction. Then - visual sensors drenched in a fiery backlight of red - Rattrap aimed for the warlord's spark chamber.

And fired.

* * *

She could hear garbled voices around her, but could barely make out what they said. At times she heard her name called and would manage to pull her sluiced circuits together enough to manage a one-word response. Maybe two. But no more. It was just too much effort.

She could feel someone occasionally touch her - fingers tracing long straight lines up and down her arms, back or hip. The fingers didn't hurt. In fact, she barely felt them. Her body felt strangely numb and detached from her processor, so she didn't care. The fingers were cold though. They held no warmth. If anything they felt… untrustworthy. Unsafe. But she couldn't bring herself to care enough to try and shake them off. They touched, roamed and glided over her where they willed. She just didn't care. She felt overwhelmingly tired, but never tired enough to actually drift away into recharge. The fingers wouldn't let her rest.

At some point she thought she remembered vaguely caring about those questing fingers and trying to escape their possessive grip. But then there'd been a sharp point of pain in her arm and she hadn't cared anymore.

There was a new voice now, though she couldn't care enough to try and place it. It was just too much effort. All she wanted to do was lay down and recharge until this oppressive, all encompassing weight on her senses disappeared. But the voices were always calling her - demanding that she follow or answer them. They never let her rest. They forced her to keep moving, even though it took all her energy and scattered concentration to place one pede in front of the other to walk.

Somewhere in the distance she thought she heard the echo of heavy gunfire but couldn't say for sure. She couldn't find the energy to care. It was just too much effort.

The lighting suddenly changed. No longer was it an oppressive black, but now a murky gray. The air was cooler. She could even feel a faint breeze.

The voice ordered her forward with renewed purpose.

She was so tired. All she wanted to do was let herself sag to the ground and drift away into darkness, but the voice kept urging her forward. Always forward with no end in sight.

She wanted to stop and rest. But she just couldn't find the energy to fight the insistent voice's siren call. She felt compelled to obey. There was no other option. She just couldn't bring herself to care enough anymore to fight…

_To Be Continued_


	6. In Desperation

Thanks to all my loyal readers/reviewers for those little tidbits of love. They always make my day and make me want to bang out a new chapter as quickly as possible.

This chapter's a short one. I had to cut it in half so that it wouldn't be so ungodly long or stop in an awkward spot.

**Chapter Six: In Desperation**

Rhinox carefully shifted his bulk around the side of a volcanic outcropping to scout ahead towards the Predacon warship in the distance. It sat like a hulking black shadow against a fiery backdrop of orange. Off to his side Tigatron and Airazor had tucked themselves into the shadowy cover of a large boulder. Not that they needed to try too hard to conceal themselves. The pervading gloom of the area lent them a nearly endless playing field of hiding places and foxholes. But that didn't mean they were about to advance without any caution. They were currently entrenched deep in enemy territory and in no position to start taking unnecessary risks. Their mission dictated stealth.

Seeing no sign of Predacon scouts, Rhinox waved an 'all clear' and together he and his two teammates scurried half a dozen paces to the next large outcrop of rocks. The Darksyde was now a mere three hundred yards away.

"This is odd," Rhinox whispered as he crouched to assess their next run. "You would think Megatron would have fliers or at least someone out patrolling the perimeter. It's almost like he doesn't think anyone would try to attack."

"The Predacons probably have security cameras covering a majority of the area," Tigatron whispered back. "They must be monitoring the ship's perimeter through remote feed."

"Most likely," Airazor agreed. "But they just kidnapped one of our teammates. They can't expect us _not _to come after her. You'd think Megatron would do _something_ to increase his security."

Rhinox snorted under his intakes. "Megatron's an arrogant, over-confident tyrant. He's probably preening from stealing those two pods, not to mention capturing Dinobot in the process. No doubt he's running high and of the mindset no one can touch him."

"Well, let's hope we can knock his pride down a few pegs by getting Dinobot back," Airazor said. "Primus only knows what he's doing to her right now…"

Rhinox glanced at the female flier. Although she hadn't said anything overtly antagonistic or out of character, there was something in Airazor's tone that made him pause. Everything Airazor had said was the exact same thing every other Maximal was feeling. But there was something else hiding just below the surface of her voice. There was anxiety, determination and worry. But most notably… righteous anger.

Although Rhinox was in no position to guess what was going through the female flier's processor, he couldn't help but feel Airazor had taken a more personal interest in Dinobot's rescue than anyone else (with the one exception of Rattrap perhaps. But that was another matter entirely…). No, what Airazor was displaying was something Rhinox suspected bordered along the lines of sypathetic femme-based solidarity.

Since discovering the truth about Dinobot's true gender Airazor hadn't made any noticeable attempts to befriend the only other femme of their group - perhaps because she knew her efforts would only be ignored or earn her a few brusque words from the anti-social raptor. But that didn't mean she didn't hold some small amount of respect for the warrioress. After all, despite all Dinobot's hostility and abrasive attitude, Rhinox himself could not deny he begrudgingly respected the Predacon turncoat. She was too skilled and had overcome too many hardships for him or anyone else not to.

He just hoped they weren't too late to rescue the bad-tempered warrioress. Not only would it be a severe blow to their side on a purely strategic level, but the raptor's loss would no doubt effect each of them in much more personal ways. As much as Rhinox didn't like admitting it, Dinobot had earned a spot amongst her Maximal comrades. Optimus had come to depend on her not only for her skills on the battlefield but also as a tactician, advisor, and occasional friend; Cheetor looked up to her like a gruff older sibling who kept him in line for the most part with her no-nonsense attitude; Tigatron and Airazor both respected her as a fellow scout they could depend on in the field to watch their backs; while Rhinox had come to appreciate the raptor's stoicism when everyone else on the crew seemed close to losing their composure; and Rattrap…

Rhinox was still trying to figure out what to make of his friend's relationship with the surly warrioress.

At times they seemed mere nano-klicks away from ripping each other's fuel lines out with their teeth, while other times it was like they were verbally circling each other to try and decipher what the other's true intentions were. They'd been that way long before Dinobot ever revealed her true identity. But ever since then Rhinox had noticed a subtle change in the way Rattrap and Dinobot interacted. Once familiar, even-leveled bickering had become more overtly playful and (Primus help him if he was right) flirtatious. Or at least on Rattrap's part. Not to mention the fact the spy seemed to go out of his way to goad the warrioress into paying attention to him at any given opportunity like an inexperienced youngling with his first crush. And slag it all if Rhinox hadn't noticed the way his old friend had seemed on the verge of a panic attack after Dinobot was captured, or the way he'd thrown all his self-made rules on self-preservation and safety out the proverbial airlock when he'd practically _ordered_ Optimus to lead them in an all out frontal attack on Megatron and his crew.

Although the logistics behind Rattrap's actions were for the most part still a secret, there was one thing Rhinox was willing to bet half a stellar-cycle's worth of pay on:

Rattrap had fallen for Dinobot. And fallen for her hard if his actions the past few solar-cycles were any indication.

Whether Dinobot returned any of the spy's feelings was still the million credit question. But Rhinox didn't feel it was time to be pondering such things when there was no guarantee they were going to be able to get the warrioress back. For all they knew Megatron had already terminated her, although Rhinox didn't really think that would prove to be the case. Knowing Megatron, Dinobot's fate would be something much more sinister in nature…

"Still no sign of enemy scouts," Tigatron whispered from behind a nearby boulder, startling Rhinox out of his thoughts.

"Prepare for the next advance," Rhinox replied. He gripped his machine gun tighter in anticipation. "The closer we are to the ship when Optimus gives the signal, the easier it'll be for us t-"

The muffled echo of gunfire somewhere in the distance abruptly cut the engineer off. Rhinox, Tigatron and Airazor all glanced towards its source. It was coming from the northeast of their current position - near the Darksyde's main lift.

"I guess that's our signal to move," Airazor noted.

Rhinox hefted his machine gun higher. "Let's go!" he called. "Optimus and the others aren't going to be able to distract the Preds forever. We probably have about twenty minutes max to find Dinobot and get out. When we get inside- ah!"

Rhinox was forced to leave his sentence unfinished by a large laser blast hitting the ground directly in the front of him. He instinctively leaped backwards to avoid being hit by exploding bits of rock and residual energy. A smoking crater marked the place where he'd been standing mere nano-klicks before.

"You're not getting inside anything!" a screechy voice rang out above Rhinox, Tigatron and Airazor. All three looked up to find Terrorsaur, Waspinator and another unfamiliar silver and gold-trimmed mech hovering several dozen feet above them in the air.

_Great. Just what we needed Megatron to have: __**another**__ flier_, Rhinox darkly noted.

"That traitor Dinobot's not going anywhere," Terrorsaur called down to them with a toothy grin. "She's staying right where she is."

"What's Megatron done with her?" Airazor angrily demanded.

Terrorsaur's grin widened. "Nothing the traitor didn't already have coming to her. It might not have been something I would have chosen, but in some ways I think it's more fitting a punishment than anything I could have thought up. For as big an idiot as Megatron is, he does have a wicked sense of humor…"

Out of the corner of his optic Rhinox saw Airazor clench her dentals in barely restrained anger. Tigatron, also, seemed to be having trouble keeping his calm composure. Rhinox noticed his own grip on his machine gun involuntarily tighten.

Terrorsaur cackled at their outraged expressions. "Who would have ever thought that traitor wormed her way deep enough into your ranks for you Maximals to actually want to try and get her back." Another screechy cackle. "Or perhaps since her true programming's come out she's decided to start bartering herself as payment for your Maximals' continued protection. Tell me, does she offer herself only to Primal, or do all the mechs of your crew share her?"

"You filthy piece of Pit spawned slag!" Airazor all but screeched.

Terrorsaur shot the female flier a slimy grin. "Don't worry, birdie. I'm sure your position amongst your comrades is safe. You're much easier to look at than Dinobot is. After all, it's not like Megatron's going to let his new toy go so easily. He has plans for that bad-tempered femme. If anyone can put that traitor in her rightful place, it'll be him."

"You… you…" But Airazor seemed unable to articulate anything beyond that through the circuit-frying anger burning in her optics. Rhinox was sure this was the angriest he'd ever seen the usually soft-spoken, respectful femme. It was a somewhat frightening sight and made Rhinox secretly vow to never anger the female scout.

As if unable to stand anymore of the red flier's mocking laughter, Airazor's arm swung up, her blaster aimed directly at Terrorsaur's chest. Her finger twitched to the trigger and curled around it. But just as she was about to squeeze it back and fire, a streak of blue laser fire suddenly sliced the air and hit Terrorsaur directly between his back thrusters.

Terrorsaur didn't even have time to screech in pain or surprise before his optics flickered offline and his body lifelessly crashed to the ground.

Another streak of light cut the air and connected with Waspinator's left side. The flier warbled in shock before he too followed Terrorsaur to the ground in a twisted pile of green and yellow striped limbs.

The three Maximals turned to the last member of the Predacon fliers - the source of the two laser blasts - shock the prevalent expression on each of their faces.

The unknown Predacon mech - undoubtedly one of the protoforms they'd lost the day before - dropped out of the air to land on the ground several paces away from them. Rhinox, Tigatron and Airazor all swung towards him, weapons drawn with him trained in their sights.

"Please," the mech said as he re-holstered his blaster and slowly raised his hands to his shoulders in surrender, "don't shoot. I mean you no harm."

Rhinox nor any of his teammates lowered their weapons. They'd seen Megatron's crew try to pull things like this before to try and make them lower their guard.

"Please," the mech insisted. "My name is Silverbolt. I truly mean you Maximals no harm. I know you are looking for your missing comrade, Dinobot. I can take you to her."

This finally earned a response from the group of shell-shocked Maximals.

"How do you know about Dinobot?" Airazor demanded. Her blaster unconsciously shied to the side, taking Silverbolt out of her immediate crosshairs.

"I saw her," the odd looking flier said. "Megatron's drugged her with something. I'm not sure what exactly. But whatever it is is a vile and disgusting thing. Megatron had his scientist Tarantulas create it."

Rhinox felt his coolant tank clench with undefined dread at the mention of the mad scientist. Nothing good had ever come from anything that deranged spider created.

Silverbolt cautiously lowered his hands back to his sides and turned his gaze to the ground as if too ashamed to meet their optics. "Your friend…" he murmured, shaking his head in disgust, "she is in a bad state. She only does what she is ordered to do and barely even reacts when Megatron touches her without her consent. Whatever drug Megatron injected her with has made her into nothing more than an automated drone. But if that wasn't shameful enough, no one else amongst the crew seems the least bit bothered by this or gives it a second thought. I heard several of them actually making jokes about it! Never have I seen such a shameful, dishonorable thing."

Silverbolt abruptly looked up again to meet Rhinox's gaze, optics bright with determination. "I will help you rescue your friend. I will take you to her. Before your fellow Maximals attacked Terrorsaur explained the ship's security system to me and the other new crewmember. I can sneak you in a back way where no one will see us."

"Why should we trust you?" Rhinox asked, his sub-programming demanding that he remain cautious despite the mech's trust-inspiring speech.

Silverbolt glanced at the motionless forms of Terrorsaur and Waspinator. "Because I can no longer bear to stand aside and do nothing. What Megatron has done to your friend is inexcusable. Beyond reprehensible. What little I have seen of the Predacon faction thus far has disturbed me beyond words. Hearing Terrorsaur speak about your comrade, or any femme for that matter, in such an uncouth manner was the final straw. I can no longer stand to be called one of them. It almost makes me wish I'd hit him with a stronger blast..."

Glancing back at Rhinox, Silverbolt speared him with a desperate, pleading look. "If I take you to your friend will you allow me to join you? I heard that Dinobot was once a Predacon herself before she defected to your side. If I help you rescue her will you accept me as a Maximal?"

Caught off guard by the mech's plea, Rhinox glanced at his two companions. Tigatron and Airazor returned his gaze with raised optic-ridges and shock-blank expressions that mirrored Rhinox's own reaction. A long, tense moment passed with none of them able to offer any good reason not to tentatively trust the new mech.

As if coming to a unanimous, unspoken decision, Rhinox turned back to Silverbolt. "Alright," he nodded. "Take us to Dinobot and we'll talk more about you joining our crew."

Meanwhile, in the distance, the echo of gunfire took on a new, fevered pitch…

* * *

Rattrap silently cursed his bad luck. In a fit of blind anger quite unlike him, he'd fired on Megatron hoping to put a permanent end to the tyrant's sickening words. When Megatron had mentioned completing a bond with Dinobot with that deliberate dip of intonation and carefully over-elongated vowel sound there'd been no doubt in Rattrap's processor what Megatron was insinuating:

A Sparkbond. Normally a pure and unbreakable connection between two 'bots meant to join them together at their deepest level by the thing that defined their very existence. It was the ultimate sign of love for Cybertronians. Because it was immutable, all-encompassing, and irrevocably forever.

Megatron, however, no doubt planned to warp such a pure and intimate bond into something dark and twisted - completely unrecognizable from its original form and function. Something that was no longer a willing bond between two lovers but something meant to manipulate and enslave.

Rattrap had heard of unwilling sparkbonds being performed. It was an outlawed practice. But that didn't mean it didn't happen in the darker, rougher parts of Cybertron, both in Predacon and Maximal sectors. Usually it was done by unscrupulous mechs wanting to ensure their partners could never leave them. Unfortunately, sparkbonding when one of the two 'bots in question was not a willing participant and actively fought against the other's connection was dangerous and usual fatal. The resisting bot's spark more often times than not would slowly degrade and wither away over time (sometimes over the course of several dozen stellar-cycles) until its owner finally (mercifully) slipped into full system stasis lock and faded offline.

Oh, how he'd been hoping to blast the core of Megatron's spark from his spark chamber with that shot. But it seemed Fate was not on his side that day. For with unforeseen speed, the Predacon warlord had twisted to the side and ducked out of the blast's path with only a few millimeters to spare. Almost within the blink of an optic, the area became a confusing kaleidoscope of laserfire, flames and movement.

Blasterfire rained down on them in near continuous waves but Rattrap, Optimus and Cheetor managed to return fire in random chaotic spurts. Using a few well placed shots, they'd forced Megatron and his crew to seek their own cover as well. Now entrenched on both sides, despite the continued gunfire, neither side had the clear advantage anymore and were deadlocked in a classic Metallonian standoff.

Not that that was necessarily a bad thing, Rattrap forced himself to consider. The longer they could distract Megatron and his dim-witted minions, the more time Rhinox and the others had to sneak aboard and find Dinobot. Although he wanted nothing more than to rush the Darksyde and rescue the female raptor himself, Rattrap consoled himself with the possibility of leaving a few blaster holes in the superstructures of the ones that had stolen the warrioress from him before Optimus ultimately called for retreat.

The only thing weighing on Rattrap's processor was the absence of Terrorsaur, Waspinator, Blackarachnia and the other protoform they'd lost to the Predacons. Were they still on the ship watching for intruders, or somewhere else planning an attack? Either way, Rattrap didn't like the wildcard factor their absence spelled. He could only hope Rhinox, Tigatron and Airazor were able to pull through and find Dinobot before this battle could escalate into something too far out of control.

"You pathetic Maximals are wasting your time!" Megatron shouted over the drill of gunfire. "Dinobot belongs to me!"

"Over mah' cold offlined superstructure!" Rattrap yelled back as he swung out from his hiding place to fire a few blasts in Inferno's direction. "I'll die before I ever let ya put yer slimy claws on her! If yeh've done anythin' ta hurt her I swear ta Primus I'll hunt you down 'n turn ya inta a steamin' pile of scrap metal myself!"

There was a long stretch of silence, punctuated only by the continued patter of fire from either side. For a moment, Rattrap thought Megatron wasn't going to bother with a retort. But then Megatron's voice drifted back to him across the small no-man's-land between them.

"My, my, my… What an interesting development," Megatron chuckled as if Rattrap had just told the funniest joke instead of openly threatened him. Rattrap cautiously peeked around the corner of the boulder to find the tyrant staring at him with an amused smirk on his face. "Is that a hint of possessiveness I detect in the tiny Maximal's voice? Or perhaps I should say: _lust_?" Another bout of mocking laughter rumbled the warlord's chest. "Oh, this is just too amusing. The rat is smitten! And by none other than my wayward warrioress!"

Rattrap's dentals clenched in anger and embarrassment. He felt his cheek plates warm with an unbidden rush of mech-fluid. "Can it, Mega-dip! Before I blast dat ugly smirk right off yer face!"

Megatron, however, continued to softly chuckle under his intakes, optics bright with amusement as he returned Rattrap's glare with an unconcerned and (damn him to the Pit) _knowing_ grin. Rattrap involuntarily shrank back under the warlord's mocking gaze, feeling as if he could feel Megatron's ridicule physically washing over him. Once again he felt as if he'd just been caught in the act of some horrible secret. Despite his outspoken determination to rescue Dinobot thus far, Rattrap still couldn't quite force himself to admit the feelings spurring his near obsessive self-appointed mission on.

And to have _Megatron_ of all 'bots openly point out what he'd deluded himself into believing he'd been so careful to conceal until now was enough to make the smart-mouthed spy want to curl up under the nearest rock and hide until either Unicron returned or he offlined from embarrassment. Whichever came first.

"I'd like you see you try," Megatron said, finally seeming to sober from his unexpected revelation. "You couldn't harm me even if you had a full arsenal of weapons."

The tyrant's optics slowly traveled over Rattrap's form, silently assessing him. Rattrap muscled down a shudder of disgust and simultaneous wave of self-conscious embarrassment.

"You truly are a foolish creature if you think you could ever steal Dinobot back from me," Megatron said, his vocals dropping several octaves into a dangerous growl. "I can tell you want her. After all, why else would you fight so hard for her return? Perhaps you admire her strength and skills the same way I do. Or perhaps you like the element of danger of consorting with a member of the enemy faction. In any case, I can also tell you share no actual bond with her. She is only the object of your desires. Nothing more. After all, how could she ever be anything more than that? Dinobot would never be interested in such a pathetic waste of engineering and material like you. You are nothing more than a garbage-eating pest while she is a warrior - descendent of the proud Decepticon race. Do you really think she would ever accept someone like you as a partner to stand beside her?" Megatron speared Rattrap with a pointed look, his voice dripping with unmasked contempt. "I think not…"

For several moments of stunned silence Rattrap could think of nothing to do or say in response. Much of what the warlord had said hit far too close to home for the spy to just pretend to brush off. He was more than aware of the differences between himself and the ex-Predacon warrioress. Hadn't he just the solar-cycle before been contemplating his attributes (or lack there of) when compared to the proud femme?

Not only was Dinobot more physically suited for battle - stronger, faster, braver - she was also fearless, powerful, confident, intelligent and ambitious; all things Rattrap would admit right off the bat he was not. In what world could he ever hope to win the warrioress's attention? He had to resort to insults and off-colored jokes to get Dinobot to even look at him half the time. As Megatron had pointed out: how could Dinobot ever accept a pathetic mech like him as a teammate, comrade or friend let alone as a potential… _partner_?

It was downright laughable. But Rattrap was not laughing. If anything he felt his spark shrink a little in his spark chamber at Megatron's unwanted dose of reality. He supposed it really shouldn't have been such a painful realization. He'd been mulling such thoughts over for the last several solar-cycles anyway. He'd realized it the very first time he'd caught himself entertaining thoughts of Dinobot being anything more than just a close comrade or friend that that was all his half-constructed fantasies of the femme would ultimately play out to be: mere fantasies. Because, like Megatron said: what would a femme like Dinobot ever want with a sniveling rat like him?

It was one of the simple immutable facts of the world. He knew this and accepted it.

Yet why did it still make his spark ache to realize this was ultimately the way it had to be?

Rattrap had to force his processor back from going any farther down that line of code. Depressed, self-deprecating thoughts would have to wait until later. No matter how much he wished he could change the ways of the world, his first priority was still getting Dinobot back. First and foremost, that was his mission. Even if he could never hope to be anything more than the annoying garbage-smelling teammate to her, he'd damn himself to the Pit if he let Dinobot spend one nano-klick longer than she had to in Megatron's clutches.

Emboldened by this thought, Rattrap met Megatron's gaze evenly with his own. "I may not be much ta look at, but at least I don' have ta kidnap a femme an' keep her locked up ta make her want ta be around me. If ya think ya fit da bill for Dinobot's future Sparkmate, why'd'yu have ta kidnap her ta get her back? If she really belonged ta you, why'd ya ever lose her in da first place when she left ya ta join us dirty Maximals'?"

Rattrap knew he was playing a dangerous game provoking Megatron. But Primus help him if he didn't want to give the tyrant a taste of his own bitter reality.

And it seemed to work. For with a vicious snarl of anger, Megatron raised his cannon-blaster and aimed it in his direction. Rattrap ducked behind his cover just in time to avoid the tyrant's shot. He felt the rocks grow hot under his touch from the cannon blast's heat.

"I've heard iridescent servo-petals are usually helpful in winning over a stubborn femme's affections," Megatron's voice growled. "Apparently they like to attach them to their superstructures, or some such nonsense like that. But since we both know Dinobot is not that kind of femme, perhaps I will bring her your skinned hide to mount on her wall instead."

Despite being pinned down by enemy fire and at a distinct disadvantage, Rattrap couldn't help but chuckle. "Yeh know what, Megs?" he called as he swung out to return a blaster shot of his own. "As much as I hate ta admit it, dat might actually work…"

_To Be Continued_

Megatron and Rattrap in a proverbial pissing match over Dinobot. I once again amuse myself with my own neurotic mental images…


	7. Out in the Open

Here's the new amazingly short chapter! My attention's been wandering lately - work, studying for an important government test, etc - and I haven't been able to find much time to write. This chapter should be twice as long with two other POV sections, but I didn't want to make my readers wait any longer for an update.

**Chapter Seven: Out in the Open**

Blackarachnia was starting to worry. Or at least worry as much as a bot like her was physically capable of when it came to another's well being - which meant her concern was based more off of personal annoyance than anything else.

Dinobot walked close behind her. The warrioress moved in a slow, shuffling stumble as if barely able to put one pede in front of the other. Ever since leaving the Darksyde and beginning their escape across the harsh volcanic wasteland that surrounded the Predacon ship, Dinobot's pace had become increasingly sluggish and unsteady. It took almost constant coaxing and sometimes outright threats from Blackarachnia to keep the raptor moving. And if that wasn't enough, the black widow had also begun to notice violent tremors occasionally pass through Dinobot as if the warrioress was being shocked by random jolts of electricity.

Yes. Blackarachnia was starting to get worried. This was all no doubt a result of Tarantulas' neural serum. Blackarachnia silently cursed the mad scientist and Predacon warlord who'd injected Dinobot with it to the darkest circle of the Pit and back. She should have known following through with her sudden bout of conscience wasn't going to be easy. It almost made her wish she hadn't decided to sneak Dinobot back to her Maximal comrades. Playing the hero was entirely too much work. This was just one of the reasons she'd stayed a Predacon for so long.

A sudden wild scuffle of rocks made Blackarachnia whirl around. One of Dinobot's feet had slipped in a patch of loose gravel, causing her to momentarily flail for balance. Blackarachnia was quick to grab the warrioress's elbow to help steady her.

"Don't you dare fall," she growled as Dinobot shakily got her pedes back under her. If Dinobot went down there was the possibility Blackarachnia wouldn't be able to coax her up again. Dinobot was nearing the end of her limits and wasn't going to remain mobile for much longer. That second dose of Tarantulas's concoction seemed to be having more powerful, adverse effects on the warrioress than the first. Blackarachnia had to get her as far away from the Darksyde (and Megatron) as she could before the warrioress's strength finally gave out. Because if Dinobot collapsed and/or refused to go any further, there was no way Blackarachnia was going to be able to carry the other femme. She was too tall and heavy for that. And if that happened they'd be as good as sitting ducks.

Pausing a moment, Blackarachnia studied the raptor's face. Dinobot's optics were barely online. Only a faint glow of red burned in them. Sneaking the tip of her pincer underneath Dinobot's chin, Blackarachnia swiveled the warrioress's face towards her so that her optics stared in her general direction. There was no glint of recognition or even conscious intelligence in the raptor's vacant gaze.

A wave of intense hatred and disgust once seized Blackarachnia's spark. Besides passing respect Blackarachnia had never paid Dinobot much attention. But to see her now, reduced to this lifeless shell made Blackarachnia once again wish she could take a blaster to Megatron's face. Somehow seeing such a powerful fighter - especially a fellow femme - brought to such lows was enough to make even someone like Blackarachnia form a conscience.

"Slaggit," the black widow cursed as she released Dinobot's face and stepped back. "I haven't even officially joined them yet and I'm already acting like a spark-bleeding Maximal."

Dinobot did nothing in response except drunkenly sway on her pedes.

Blackarachnia heaved a long-suffering sigh. "Come on. Let's find your friends so I can pass you off to them. Then dragging you back to base will be their problem."

Tugging on Dinobot's elbow she once again got the warrioress moving. As she continued to lead her drugged companion through the hellish landscape of craggy rock outcrops and cooled lava flows, Blackarachnia caught the echo of angry gunfire somewhere in the distance. It sounded like it was coming from the front of the ship near the main lift.

"Sounds like your friends found out Megatron's not interested in negotiating," she noted dryly. Grabbing Dinobot by the wrist, Blackarachnia pulled her forward, urging her to move faster. "Come on, hurry up. We don't have much time before someone finds out you're missing and comes after us. I may be new to this whole doing-the-right-thing-slag but I'll be damned to the Pit if I'm going to sacrifice myself just yet to save you if Megatron decides to send someone after us. If that happens you're on your own."

Despite Blackarachnia's uncaring tone, even as the words left her vocal processor she knew they weren't quite true. Sure, she might not be thrilled with the idea of putting herself in the line of fire for another - in fact she'd do everything in her power to avoid such a thing. But at the same time, if such a situation arose, Blackarachnia had a sinking suspicion her newfound conscience wouldn't let her completely turn her back on the other. Especially when her charge was so incapacitated and helpless to defend herself.

_Primus help me if I start spouting slag about peace, love and inter-faction harmony. If that happens I'll take a blaster to my own cranial unit…_

But that was assuming she was able to get Dinobot out of Predacon territory and back to her Maximal comrades first. Because if Megatron caught up with them Blackarachnia was pretty sure she wouldn't have to worry about sliding down the slippery slope of goodness anymore…

Urgently pulling Dinobot by the arm, Blackarachnia forcefully dragged the female raptor into the fastest pace she thought the ex-Predacon could handle: a sluggish, half power-walking lope. They had to hurry. Who knew how long they had before someone discovered they were gone.

Dinobot blindly stumbled along behind her. The warrioress said nothing in protest and obediently followed her lead but Blackarachnia could feel Dinobot struggling to keep pace with her. No doubt it was taking everything the warrioress had left to just keep her feet under her. Under different circumstances she might have almost felt bad for pushing the drugged femme so hard, but there was nothing Blackarachnia could do about it. They couldn't afford to slow down. She had to get Dinobot as far away as possible. It was their only hope of escape.

For twenty minutes or more Blackarachnia led the silent, stumbling warrioress across the volcanic landscape while the continuous drill of gunfire continued to echo in the distance. They were just nearing the outer perimeter of the Darksyde's defenses when Blackarachnia's race against time was abruptly brought to an end by Dinobot's foot catching against the edge of a small rise of rock jutting from the ground which sent the Maximal warrioress crashing to her knees at Blackarachnia's feet.

The spider whirled around on her. "Get up," she snarled, urgently tugging on the raptor's arm. "Come on, get up. We don't have time for this!"

But Dinobot was beyond obeying anymore. She remained where she'd fallen, slumped forward and head bowed as if she no longer even had the strength to lift it. The warrioress was cycling air heavily. Beads of condensation had begun to form across her helm while slight tremors shook her hunched shoulders.

"Slag," Blackarachnia cursed as she stooped down in front of Dinobot. The warrioress's optics had dimmed even more, if that was even possible. She barely seemed online anymore. And if all that wasn't enough Blackarachnia could tell Dinobot was still sliding steadily closer and closer to full stasis lock. Even as she watched in mounting dismay, the raptor's superstructure began to tremble with increasing strength.

"Aw, slag. Slag, slag, slag slag slagslagslagslag," she cursed, and abruptly stood straight again and swung around to survey the surrounding area. Although they'd managed to put a sizable distance between themselves and the Darksyde, they were still nowhere close to being safely out of enemy territory. Nothing but open lava flows spread out in any which direction around them. Decent sized outcrops of rock dotted the land here and there, but none of them close enough for Blackarachnia to drag Dinobot to to take cover behind. They might as well have been stranded in the middle of an open plain. Any flier would be able to spot them in less than a nano-klick.

"No!" Blackarachnia wailed, scuffing her pede against the ground in helpless frustration. "Why couldn't you have waited to collapse until we at _least _got out of sight of the ship?"

Dinobot gave no answer and remained motionless where she knelt hunched on the ground.

Gritting her dentals, Blackarachnia once again took stock of their surrounding. There was no way she was going to be able to physically haul Dinobot off the ground even to carry her a short distance. The raptor, for better or worst, was staying right where she'd fallen. For a moment, Blackarachnia considered leaving Dinobot to seek out her Maximal comrades for help but almost immediately scrapped the idea. As useless and frustrating Dinobot had become Blackarachnia couldn't stomach the thought of leaving the warrioress there without someone else to watch over her. Once again, there was no knowing when Megatron was going to find out his ex-lieutenant had fled and sent someone to retrieve her. Blackarachnia doubted Primal and his crew would accept her if she came to them without their missing comrade in tow as a sort of exchange offering for their protection from her former faction. Because once Megatron found out she'd helped Dinobot escape there was no way on this primitive planet he was ever going to let her return to the Predacons. At least while she was still online and functioning that is…

"Great. Now what?" Blackarachnia moaned, at a total loss for what to do.

At her feet Dinobot had begun to shiver more noticeably. Blackarachnia could actually hear the faint rattle of her armor plates vibrating against each other.

"This was not what I was expecting when I decided to play Maximal," the black widow groused as she once against dropped down to one knee at Dinobot's optic level. "If I had known this would happen I would have-"

The sound of approaching footsteps registered in her audio receptors and abruptly forced the recently defected Predacon to fall silent.

Bolting upright, Blackarachnia swung around towards the source, blaster out and ready to fire. Almost subconsciously she moved to stand in front of Dinobot so that she was a physical barrier between the warrioress and whoever was approaching.

The footsteps - several 'bots by the sound of it - were coming from the east directly towards them. A large outcrop of rocks half a dozen yards away obscured Blackarachnia's view from seeing if the newcomers were friend or foe. Not about to take any chances, the black widow sunk into a battle crouch, still shielding her impassive charge.

Looks like she was going to get a go at the whole goody two-shoes act sooner than expected, she thought with a snort.

The footsteps drew ever closer until finally the outlines of several figures seemed to separate themselves from the pervading gloom and materialize into solid shapes. For a moment they didn't seem to notice Blackarachnia or Dinobot. But just as the small group of four came around the outcrop of rocks into the open a startled cry went up from one of their members.

Guns, blasters and lasers came swinging up seemingly out of nowhere, and within the blink of an optic Blackarachnia was staring down the barrels of several different weapons. A moment of intense silence passed, no one moving or saying a word as the two sides stared each other down across the distance of several dozen feet. Despite the weapons aimed at her Blackarachnia used the momentary standoff to identify their unexpected company.

Despite the gloom and inky shadows, it didn't take an astrophysicist to know who'd stumbled across her and Dinobot. No amount of darkness could completely hide the Maximal scout Tigatron's snowy white superstructure or minimize the engineer Rhinox's massive bulk. Even the flier Airazor's wings stood out clearly from the rest of her structure's outline. The only one that mildly surprised her was the presence of the new mech Silverbolt there with them.

Defecting to the Maximals seemed to be a growing trend these days…

"Don't shoot! I have your friend!" Blackarachnia called as she shifted slightly to the side to give the Maximals a glimpse of the kneeling warrioress behind her. Removing the tip of her pincer from her blaster's trigger with exaggerated slowness, she reattached it to her hip and stood straight, hands held out to her sides.

Although the Maximals remained tense and on guard, their guns nevertheless dropped away from Blackarachnia back to their sides.

"Dinobot!" Airazor called, and without even waiting for the okay or cover from her comrades rushed forward. Reaching Dinobot, she dropped to one knee beside the shivering warrioress.

Rhinox, Tigatron and Silverbolt were all quick to follow and before long the group of Maximals were gathered around Dinobot in a small circle.

Blackarachnia was surprised by the unexpected twinge that went through her sparkbox at the realization such outward displays of concern would have never been seen in the ranks of her former faction. As a Predacon you had only yourself to look after and rely on. No one else was going to help you. You were on your own.

And to know Dinobot's Maximal comrades were fighting so hard to rescue her instead of just leaving her for dead and for her to see the way they worriedly hovered over her made Blackarachnia momentarily question her former faction's protocol. Certainly the Maximals were going to take some time getting used to, but their sense of camaraderie couldn't be that bad in the long run, she mused. (Even though it disgusted her slightly to admit such sappiness even in the privacy of her own processor.) After all, their sense of loyalty had to be a step above the indifferent scorn usually seen amongst her former crewmates…

"What were you doing out here with Dinobot?" Rhinox's voice broke Blackarachnia out of her thoughts. Although he asked this with no open animosity or hostility, there was an unmistakable note of distrust in his voice, almost as if he was accusing her of some undefined crime.

"I was bringing her back to you," she said, returning Rhinox's tone with an icy one of her own. "I couldn't stand to watch Megatron trot her around like some kind of glorified trophy anymore and decided to sneak her out. So much for expecting a simple 'thank you' for risking my life to rescue your friend…"

Rhinox seemed cowed by the black widow's affronted tone and let the matter drop. Instead he turned his attention back to unresponsive warrioress kneeling in the center of their group.

"Dinobot?" Airazor called, gently cupping the raptor's cheek in her palm to turn her face towards her. "Dinobot, can you hear me? I need you to look at me." The warrioress's optics sluggish swiveled up towards Airazor, unfocused and distant. "Dinobot?" Airazor continued to call, desperate for response. "Can you hear me? I need you to answer me."

Dinobot groggily blinked her optics several times. A faint gleam of light returned to them as if the raptor was slowly waking from some extremely deep sleep. "Yes…" she rasped in a voice barely louder than a whisper. It seemed to take all the warrioress's strength just to force that single word out of her mouth. Dinobot's tentative hold on lucidity did not last, however, and before Airazor could coax anything else out of her, Dinobot's optics grew dull once again and she sank away from herself back under the oily black sludge that had become her processor.

"Primus…" Airazor breathed, staring into the warrioress's empty optics. "What kind of drug did Megatron use on her?" There was shock and no small amount of horror in the flier's voice. Airazor's alarm was mirrored in the optics of her fellow Maximals. No doubt this was the first time any of them had seen Dinobot in such an incoherent state.

"We have to get Dinobot back to base," Tigatron urged as he knelt down on Dinobot's other side. "She's obviously in bad shape and needs medical treatment if not the CR chamber as soon as possible."

"Can she walk?" Silverbolt asked, sidling up next to Airazor on Dinobot's other side. His question was directed towards Blackarachnia.

Blackarachnia shrugged her shoulders. "I got her as far as here before she stumbled and went down. I couldn't get her up again. She's too big for me to carry, but if one of you mechs help her you might be able to get her moving again. I'm not sure for how long though. Megatron gave her a second dose of that drug right before he went out to meet Primal. It seems to be hitting her harder than the first one."

"She's probably suffering an overdose," Rhinox noted darkly.

"Then we'd better hurry," Airazor said, still kneeling close beside Dinobot like the other femme's self-appointed guardian. "This is not a safe place for her right now."

"I'll radio Optimus and the others and tell them we have Dinobot," Rhinox said. "We'll drop back and meet them at the rendezvous point."

"I'll get Dinobot," Tigatron said as he gently took Dinobot's arm and looped it over his head against the back of his neck. Keeping a firm grip on her wrist with one hand he snaked his other arm around her back to her hip and stood. The warrioress was little more than dead weight against his side. She instinctively scrambled to get her feet under her at the sudden shift of positions, but couldn't seem to find the strength to force her knees to straighten or her legs to bear any weight, and promptly went limp again after only a few seconds of feeble struggle. Tigatron visibly faltered under the warrioress's weight.

"Here, let me help you," Silverbolt quickly offered, and slipped Dinobot's other arm up over his shoulders. Together the two mechs supported the warrioress up between them. Airazor anxiously hovered off to Tigatron's side. Rhinox by now had finished keying off his internal comm-link to their other teammates.

"Let's move," the engineer rumbled. "Optimus and the others are falling back now. We'll meet them in fifteen minutes." The others all nodded and began to move off in the direction they'd just come with Dinobot protectively in tow.

Blackarachnia hesitated, unsure if she was included in those orders or not.

Rhinox seemed to notice her uncertainty and glanced back over his shoulder. "You coming?" he called.

"I can come with you Maximals?" Blackarachnia asked.

"Unless you want to go back to Megatron," was the engineer's reply.

Blackarachnia barely had to think about it before her decision was made. "No thanks. For better or worst I think I'll try being a Maximal. This last little stunt of Megatron's has soured me to the Predacon cause."

As Blackarachnia strode forward to walk beside the engineer, Rhinox gave a sudden chuckle.

"What?" Blackarachnia demanded, giving the mech a sideways glance.

"Nothing I suppose," Rhinox rumbled with a lopsided grin. "It's just that I realized after losing those two pods to Megatron, in the end we still ended up gaining the same number of new crewmembers as we would have if we had gotten to those pods first in the beginning."

Blackarachnia was about to answer with a snide comment when a brilliant explosion from near the front of the Darksyde abruptly cut her off…

_To Be Continued…_

So, good? Bad? Somewhere in between? Please review!

As many of you are no doubt aware of, this weekend is Halloween. But even more exciting than that it is also my birthday, and here in Japan it is also a three day weekend! Score one for the home team!

So, that being said, please have a safe and happy Halloween and remember the three rules of this ghoulish holiday:  
1. wear a costume  
2. hand out candy  
3. and never, ever blow out a jack-o-lantern

Hugs, kisses and candy corn!  
-LAXgirl


	8. In the Heat of Battle

Thanks for all the birthday wishes! They really made my day.

**Chapter Eight: In the Heat of Battle**

An almost continuous drone of gunfire drummed the air. The stench of smoldering ammunition oil, singed metal, cordite and burnt ozone hung as a visible haze over the impromptu battlefield. Rattrap could only pinpoint their enemies' exact locations now by the trajectory of the deadly streaks of laserfire and plumes of flames shooting out of the pervading gloom in random bursts from the other side of the battlefield. Optimus and Cheetor, Rattrap knew, had taken positions no more than a few meters away on his left. He could hear their shouts and the chaotic patter of their blasters. But with the jagged outcrop of rocks and near constant barrage of enemy fire, Rattrap couldn't actually see them.

"Hey, Optimus! How's it goin' over der on yer side?" he casually called over the roar of one of Inferno's fire attacks. He felt the air grow alarmingly hot as small tongues of flames licked up over and around the edges of the boulder he'd taken cover behind.

"Just perfect," came Optimus's strained reply. A quick series of blaster fire drummed the air from his direction before he went on in the same forced tone of casualness as Rattrap. "And you?"

"Oh, well, don'cha know I have ol' Megs up against da ropes. He's only a few klicks away from givin' up and surrenderin' da entire war ta us."

An exceptionally strong fusion blast exploded against the other side of Rattrap's cover. Rattrap instinctively hunkered down lower, wincing as bits of sharp volcanic rock rained down on him.

"Give up, Maximals!" Megatron's voice boomed across the distance separating them. "You're only wasting your time!"

"See?" Rattrap called to Optimus, his sarcasm light and airy. "Whad'I tell ya?"

Another blast shuddered against the opposite side of Rattrap's hiding spot. Fist sized chunks of rock tumbled down on him.

"Come out and show yourself, rodent," Megatron called over the drone of battle. "If you really want Dinobot so badly, why don't you fight me for her, mech to mech? Prove that you are worthy of her attention."

Staying low, Rattrap cautiously looked out from behind his hiding spot. "I'd luv'ta, Megs, but open hand-ta-hand combat's never been high on meh things ta do list. It goes against meh survival programmin.'"

Megatron's derma plates twisted into a condescending sneer. "I should have expected as much." His optics bore into Rattrap's, as if silently pronouncing judgment on him. "A mech like you has no right to even attempt to win over a femme like Dinobot. You are a fool if you think she'd ever even give you a second glance. Why would she ever accept such a pathetic waste of engineering and parts like you? She deserves someone who is powerful and strong. Someone who is capable of fighting. _Someone_ who does not cower in a hole like a sniveling rat."

Rattrap knew what Megatron was trying to do. Knew that everything the tyrant said was just to rile him up and get him to make himself an easier target for Megatron's fusion canon. Nevertheless, that knowledge did not dampen the uncharacteristic stab of fury that shot through his systems at Megatron's words or stop his hand from involuntarily gripping his blaster tighter as his dentals clenched in an angry grimace.

"Oh yeah, Mega-dip? Well, I got news fer you," he yelled back, unthinkingly standing straight behind his cover. "Dinobot might look fer those things in a mech, but if der's one thing she's more den anythin' else it's dat she's smart. An' I know dat 'cause da first thing she did when you Preds crash landed on dis planet was ta leave yer sorry aft an' come ta us. If dat doesn' prove how smart she is, den nothin' does."

Megatron growled, dentals bared in an ugly snarl. "Her leaving was only out of retaliation for losing to me in battle and not gaining leadership of the Predacons. She was blinded by her ambitions and wanted a different arena in which to prove herself. That is the _only_ reason she left our cause."

"Ya sure it wasn't because she just wanted ta get away from you?" Rattrap nastily shot back.

Megatron's facial plates darkened, his optics narrowing into two dangerous slits of red. "You foul little vermin…" he hissed.

"Like I haven' heard dat before…" Rattrap snorted.

"You will pay for your insults, Maximal," Megatron said, fusion cannon humming dangerously against his arm. "I will peel your armor from you protoforms in pieces before I rip your sparkchamber out through your chest."

Then, before Rattrap had any time to even snap off a smart remark, the tyrant rushed him. Slightly startled by the unexpected charge, Rattrap was only able to fire off two shots (both of which seemed to harmlessly _pling _against the Predacon leader's transmetal exostructure) before Megatron was suddenly right in front of him.

One of Megatron's hands shot out and wrapped around Rattrap's neck - his fingers curling around the smaller mech's throat in almost a complete circle. Before Rattrap could properly process this sudden turn of events the warlord turned and - putting as much strength as he could into the motion - brutally hurled the tiny spy into a nearby rock outcrop.

Rattrap hit the volcanic rock with a sickening crunch of metal. He felt a section of his transmetal exoarmor near his back struts crack. His optics flared white with pain. Stunned by the impact, it took Rattrap several seconds to reboot his processor back to full capacity. And not a nano-klick too soon, because just as the residual static cleared from his optics, he looked up just in time to see the tail-like structure of Megatron's fusion cannon come whipping towards him like a wrecking ball.

Survival programming kicking in, the spy instinctively ducked and rolled away just as Megatron's arm smashed against the place where Rattrap's head had been no more than a nano-klick before. The volcanic rock seemed to literally _vaporize_ under the tyrant's blow and showered Rattrap in a cloud of pulverized black dust and bits of rock.

Rolling across the ground several times to put some distance between himself and the enraged Predacon, Rattrap rolled to his knees and swung his blaster up and around back towards Megatron. The warlord was coming at him again, his superstructure nothing more than a hulking black outline that seemed to blot out the fiery red sky above. Rattrap aimed and fired several shots. Once again, they seemed to have little to no effect on the enraged tyrant. If anything, all they did was leave a series of painful looking singe marks across Megatron's chest and shoulders.

_Oh slag…_ Rattrap silently cursed as the tyrant bore down on him like a runaway tank. Turning, Rattrap tried to scramble away but Megatron caught him before he could get very far.

"And where do you think you're going, hm?" Megatron said, once again seizing Rattrap by the throat. Lifting Rattrap off the ground as though he weighed nothing at all, the tyrant held him so that they were at the same optic level, separated by less than a foot. "You're not scurrying your way out of this one, rodent," his hissed in the spy's face.

Struggling against the hand clamped around his throat, Rattrap's legs uselessly pedaled the air. At some point he'd unconsciously dropped his blaster to claw at Megatron's vice-like hold, but he might as well have been trying to pry open a glued bear trap for all the good it did him.

"You feel it don't you?" Megatron said, staring into Rattrap's optics. "That growing feeling of weakness? I learned many stellar cycles ago you can kill a mech by pinching off the energon lines running through a bot's necks up to their processor. It's a very slow and painful process. One in which the victim retains consciousness almost all the way up until the very end." He slowly leaned forward so that his face hovered mere inches away from Rattrap's own. "I plan to see how long it takes for your processor to stall and fall into stasis lock…"

Rattrap tried to reply - tried to spit back a smart-mouthed retort. But all he could manage was a few choked off, garbled sounds. His fingers were beginning to grow numb. He could barely feel them anymore clawing at the seam of Megatron's hand clamped around his throat. But more frightening than that was the overwhelming weakness that was steadily spreading through his entire body. A low buzz had formed in his audio receptors as if a swarm of tiny insects had crawled their way into both sides of his head. A staticky ring of darkness had begun to form along the edges of his visual readout. As he continued to feebly struggle in Megatron's grip, it began to spread across his plane of vision.

Megatron grinned, cold and merciless. "With you, and soon your Maximal comrades as well, out of the way I will have no one to stop me from taking over this primitive planet and returning to Cybertron to build my army. Nor will there be anyone to stop me from claiming Dinobot as my queen." He leered down at Rattrap, his facial plates twisting into a cruel grin. "Understand this, rodent, in your last few klicks of function: she is _mine_."

Rattrap helplessly glared at Megatron, no sound able to slip past the merciless fingers crushing his throat.

_No…_ Rattrap's failing thoughts screamed in protest. This wasn't how this was supposed to end. He was supposed to save Dinobot and bring the snarly warrioress back home. He was supposed to save her from an unwanted sparkbond with Megatron and rescue her from a life of gilded slavery. He was supposed to finally come through as the hero and prove he wasn't the cowardly rat everyone thought he was.

The darkness was spreading faster. It steadily crept across his vision in oily black tendrils. Megatron's face was only a fuzzy outline now to his dimming optics.

"I will give Dinobot your last regards," Megatron's voice seemed to drift to him from the other end of a long, narrow tunnel. "Though after I am done with her, you Maximals will be nothing more than a stray blip mark in her memory banks."

_No!_ Rattrap wanted to scream - wanted to rant, rave and spit into the warlord's smug face as loud as his vocal processors possibly could. No! He couldn't let that happen! He couldn't let Megatron touch his comrade! He'd damn himself to the Pits if he let Megatron do anything more to Dinobot than he already had.

_No!_ Rattrap silently wailed inside the prison of his own processor. He desperately tugged at the immobile edge of Megatron's hand.

He had to do something. Anything! He had to save Dinobot even if it was the last thing he did.

"NO!" the strangled cry finally burst past Megatron's death grip and out of Rattrap's mouth as the spy mustered every last ounce of his waning strength and blindly swung his leg up and around towards the Predacon leader's face. His foot connected with Megatron's mouth with a hollow crunch.

The hand around his throat abruptly disappeared. His body crashed to the ground in a unceremonious heap. Rattrap's cracked back strut flared with pain at the rough impact. Coughing as energon painfully surged upwards through his neck's previously crushed lines, the spy curled onto his side cradling his abused throat. His processor seemed to almost instantly clear as the energon flooded his neural circuits and restored his starved systems. Shaking the last of the fuzziness from his vision, Rattrap groggily pushed himself up off the ground.

Above him Megatron clutched his mouth with one hand. Tiny trickles of purplish energon seeped between his fingers and snaked down the length of his wrist and forearm. As Rattrap watched in a stunned daze, the warlord turned his face to the side and spit out the shattered remains of several broken dentals.

The Predacon slowly turned back towards Rattrap, promised termination burning in his optics. "You will pay for that, vermin," he rumbled in a frighteningly low voice. A line of energon ran down his chin from one corner of his mouth. "By the time I am done with you, you will be begging me to put you out of your miserable existence…"

Still slightly dazed by his near-termination, Rattrap had no chance to react before Megatron lunged forward and buried his pede in the smaller mech's side with a savage kick as though determined to drive the spy's spark chamber out through the opposite side of his body. Rattrap jackknifed in half, the faint taste of energon and mech fluid springing up in the back of his intact line. Pain the likes of which he'd never felt before blossomed across his midsection and around his sides all the way to his now fractured back strut. He was pretty sure he was going to have to spend half the next lunar cycle banging out the crater-sized dent in his stomach. Assuming he survived all this, which Rattrap was having less and less hope of doing as time progressed…

"You are even more annoying than I ever realized," Megatron hissed as he delivered another kick to the spy's exposed side, forcing Rattrap onto his back. Coming to stand over Rattrap, he smashed his foot down in the middle of the Maximal saboteur's chest. Rattrap only managed a muffled cry before it was cut off by the full weight of the warlord pressing down on him directly over his spark chamber. "It's truly a wonder Dinobot was able to put up with you for so long without terminating you…"

Despite his current position, Rattrap forced a strangled chuckle around the oppressive weight pressing down on him. "Believe me… it's not like… she hasn' tried…" he wheezed between labored intakes. He involuntarily winced as Megatron shifted above him, forcing his shoulders to grind down against his beast-mode's wheel rims. He bit his glossa to keep from crying out. He refused to give the tyrant the pleasure of knowing how much pain he was in.

"A pity…" Megatron sniffed. Shifting back, the warlord brought his fusion cannon around and aimed it directly at his captive's head. Rattrap betrayed no outward sign of fear as Megatron slowly pressed the barrel of his cannon flat against the side of his helm. "Say goodbye, Maximal. Because this really _is_ the end, ye~ssss…"

Rattrap defiantly glared up at Megatron, for once silent with any kind of retort or snide comment. The cannon hummed low against the side of Rattrap's helm, sending a physical vibration coursing through his head all the way down to his internal processor. He felt the metal of the barrel grow increasingly hot as its power cells built to deliver the final deadly blow.

But before the tyrant could send the other mech's cranial unit flying apart, a frantic shout suddenly sounded from the other side of the battlefield. There was the muffled electronic pop of a laser gun and Megatron's right shoulder was punched backwards, forcing his cannon away from Rattrap's head. There was another blast that caught Megatron in his lower chest and the foot crushing Rattrap into the ground disappeared.

"Rattrap! Are you okay?" It was Optimus.

"Yeah… I guess…" Rattrap coughed where he lay on the ground, holding his flattened chassis. Forcing himself to move, the spy painfully rolled to the side and slowly climbed to his knees, and then his feet. He swayed slightly as he stood straight. Sharp, throbbing pain radiated across his entire front side. Rattrap gingerly pressed one hand to the center of his chest. At his touch, his spark chamber gave a painful twinge. More than likely it had suffered some kind of damage from Megatron pressing down on him. Hairline fractures along his spark chamber's casing seemed a very real possibility at the moment. If he managed to make it out of this alive one of the first things he was going to have to do when he got back to base was visit a CR tank.

But, once again, that was assuming he survived this mess…

Megatron had been driven back half a dozen feet by Optimus' last shot. He glared at the two Maximals with undisguised hatred, fusion cannon humming by his side. "Primal… so it seems you decided to join the party too," he greeted with a growl.

"Just making sure I don't lose anymore of my crewmembers to you," Optimus replied, blaster held out and trained on the Predacon leader.

Megatron glowered. His fusion cannon hummed louder. Its barrel glowed bright with charged energy.

Rattrap was suddenly uncomfortably aware of his position - standing directly in between the warring factions' two leaders as they stared each other down in a classic standoff while he stood there injured and without a gun. It was times like this Rattrap seriously wondered if Primus was out to get him…

"You've meddled for the last time, Primal," Megatron growled, eyes narrowing at the Maximal commander. "I will not let you interfere in my plans anymore."

"We'll see about that," Optimus replied.

Both leaders seemed to take a moment to size each other up, before almost simultaneously raising their weapons. Rattrap inwardly cringed. This was going to be bad, especially considering his current location. He knew Optimus wouldn't fire on him, but he had no such faith in Megatron doing the same.

Just before either leader or Rattrap could make a move to fire or duck away for cover though, there was an explosive burst of static over both Rattrap and Optimus's com links. In the charged stillness of the battlefield, the sound of it was as deafening as a cannon blast.

"_Rhinox to Alpha Team. Rhinox to Alpha Team_," a staticky voice called over the link. "_We have Dinobot. Repeat: we have Dinobot. Retreat and fall back to rendezvous point._"

Rattrap froze at the transmission, unsure if he was hearing correctly.

Optimus reached up to tap the side of his com unit. "Primal here. We read you loud and clear. We're pulling out now. Meet at rendezvous point sigma, ETA fifteen klicks. Over."

"_Copy. Over_," Rhinox replied, and the transmission abruptly blipped out.

"What? No!" Megatron roared from the other side of the battlefield. "Impossible!"

"Apparently not, Megs," Rattrap replied, an intoxicating wave of smugness surging through his systems. "Looks like ye're gonna hafta put yer plans on hold."

"That wretched spider…" Megatron hissed, as if suddenly realizing something. "She either failed to do as she was ordered, or has betrayed our cause." A look of near mindless rage erupted across the warlord's face. "I will _destroy_ that eight-legged traitor!" Enraged optics swiveled up to spear Rattrap and Optimus with a deadly glare. "And I will destroy you pathetic Maximals for stealing my prize from me!"

Fusion cannon swinging up, Megatron aimed it at the closest of the two Maximals, which just so happened to be Rattrap. It's barrel flared bright as it powered up to fire.

"Rattrap, duck!" Optimus cried behind him.

Concentrated energy exploded from the end of Megatron's cannon, speeding towards the startled spy almost as if in slow motion. Curling down against himself, Rattrap dropped to the ground. The air sizzled as the blast passed mere millimeters above him and exploded somewhere off in the near distance.

"I won't let you take Dinobot away from me!" Megatron yelled over the roar of his cannon cycling up for another blast. "She belongs to me!"

"Not anymore she doesn't," Rattrap said, still crouched low to the ground as he stared down the enraged warlord.

Megatron bared his teeth in an ugly grimace of fury and brought his weapon to bear on Rattrap for another shot. He fired, but the shot went wide - the tyrant unable to properly aim through his rage - which made it relatively easy for the Maximal spy to duck out of the blast's immediate path and roll away to the side, although the air became hotter than Rattrap's survival codes were comfortable admitting.

"Rattrap, get out of there!" Optimus called behind him. "Fall back!"

"I will!" Rattrap shouted back over his shoulder. "But der's somethin' I hafta do first!"

Megatron had begun to stalk towards him, his shoulders hunched and body language menacing, optics locked on no one else except the tiny Maximal. The barrel of his fusion cannon glowed a hellish orange-red in the gloom. To the startled spy, he looked just like some kind of demonic entity that'd escaped from the Pit. Rattrap's survival programming screamed at him to run as the warlord neared, but he forced himself to ignore the instinctive call for retreat.

There was something he'd been wanting to do for a very long time now that overrode any other thoughts of self-preservation…

Tapping open a storage compartment on his inner forearm, Rattrap retracted a small box-shaped object. There were two buttons on the front panel and a switch below. In the upper right corner was a single screw-head shaped LED light. As Rattrap thumbed the switch upward the light flared green as if to signal its readiness for action. Pressing the leftmost of the two buttons, the light turned red and began to blink.

Megatron was only half a dozen feet away from Rattrap now. But instead of panicking as he probably would have in any other situation, Rattrap calmly pressed the last of the two buttons down and silently watched as Megatron stormed across the last few feet of space separating them before lobbing the small device at the tyrant's chest. The light began to blink faster and faster until it was an almost solid stream of red.

Instinctively Megatron tried to catch it. But instead of fumbling in the warlord's startled grasp, the device seemed to adhere right to the transmetal superstructure of his palm and refused to budge even when the tyrant tried to shake it free. He glanced up at Rattrap as if demanding an explanation for what it was.

Rattrap shot him a cheeky grin. "Just a lil' goin' away present from me ta you, Megs," he said. His optics narrowing and facial plates twisting into an uncharacteristically cold expression he added in a venomous whisper, "This is for Dinobot…"

Before the warlord had any chance to respond, a sharp chirp sounded from the device. It's LED light was now a solid pulse of red. Megatron's optics widened as if finally realizing what the smaller mech had thrown at him.

Rattrap barely had time to turn his back from the initial fire flash before the world exploded in a fantastic whirlwind of heat, flames and light. Somewhere near the center of the roiling conflagration, he caught the muffled echo of Megatron roar of anger before the sound was swallowed by the explosion's deafening boom. And then it was gone, along with Megatron who seemed to disappear into the blinding flash of light. The shockwave of the blast almost lifted Rattrap clear off the ground, but by then he'd already turned and begun running in the direction he'd last seen Optimus. Tongues of heat and fire licked at his back as a massive pillar of smoke twisted into the air.

Half blind from the initial flash, Rattrap was only partially aware of where he was going. He blindly weaved through the confusing maze of volcanic outcrops away from the blast zone. He had no idea where Optimus had disappeared to in the blast and only became aware of his presence when he almost ran straight into the transmetal gorilla.

"You okay, Rattrap?" Optimus worriedly shouted as he gripped the spy's upper arm to help steady him. Rattrap swayed slightly where he stood. "What were you thinking using an explosive when you were still so close? You could have gotten yourself killed!"

"I'm fine," Rattrap muttered as if in a daze. He was still trying to rid his optics of dancing black afterimages. "I hadta get Megs close ta use dat bomb. It's a short range one - magnetic so dat it sticks ta whatever metal it's thrown at. It's actually an anti-tank design. Against da Angry Purple Giant, I thought it seemed appropriate. It was da only explosive I had on me…" His entire superstructure ached. Dull tendrils of pain snaked back and forth across his midriff and sides where Megatron had kicked him. His fractured exo-armor near his back strut stung mercilessly. Mustering his strength, the spy pushed Optimus's helping hand away to stand by himself. "Let's go. We hafta meet up wit' da others."

Optimus seemed uncertain whether to believe Rattrap's weak assurances but didn't get to press the matter as Cheetor decided to run up to them at that exact moment.

"Did you guys get the message from Rhinox?" he called, vents cycling somewhat faster than normal as if he'd run there from a distance. Black singe marks dotted his superstructure here and there, but he otherwise seemed unharmed. "They got Dinobot!"

"Yeah, we heard," Optimus nodded. "We'll fall back and retreat to the rendezvous point to meet them."

"What was that explosion?" Cheetor demanded as the three of them moved off. "I managed to knock out Inferno, and that new mech ran off somewhere just after we heard the blast."

"Just a lil' goodbye present for Megs," Rattrap replied.

Cheetor questioningly eyed his battered body and the hand he had gingerly pressed to the center of his chest above his spark chamber. "You okay, RT? You look like you got sent through a trash compactor."

Rattrap bit back an annoyed huff. He was starting to get tired of answering this question. "I'm fine," he replied through gritted dentals. "Let's just hurry 'n meet up wit' da others. I wanna make sure dat slimy purple lizard didn' do anythin' ta ol' Choppa'face."

Cheetor and Optimus both shot him questioning looks, but didn't say anything about him impatient tone or hurried gait. Even if they had, Rattrap doubted he would have been able to hide his concern for Dinobot anymore behind backhanded insults or quips. He was just too tired, beat up and emotionally drained. Right now all he wanted to do was meet up with their other comrades, get Dinobot and go home.

That wasn't too much to ask.

…was it?

_To Be Continued…_

Hurray for fight scenes! This was probably the most fun chapter to write so far. I suck at writing dialogue and action-less drama, so being able to finally write a fight scene was an overdue treat.

Once again, throughout the entire chapter I couldn't help but wonder how Dinobot would react if she was there to witness Megatron and Rattrap fighting over her like that. Probably knock both of them upside the head or turn and walk away in disgust. Either way, the mental image makes me chuckle.

So in closing: good? Bad? Somewhere in the middle?

Reviews, as always, are encouraged and highly appreciated.


	9. Out of It

**Chapter Nine: Out Of It**

The trip back to the rendezvous point where the two rescue teams had separated seemed to take twice as long as the first time it'd taken to travel. Rattrap wasn't sure if that sense of time discrepancy was because of his aching superstructure or because he was anxious to see the one he'd just taken the beating of his life for at the hands of Megatron to rescue. Every step sent jolts of pain radiating through his dented stomach and sides. His back strut which had been cracked by Megatron throwing him into a jagged rock face felt as though someone was stabbing him repeatedly with a red hot blade. His head pulsed to the beat of his coolant pump. No doubt thanks to the Predacon leader choking off his energon lines and almost off-lining him…

Despite the throbbing pain of his injuries, however, Rattrap kept up a steady pace. Optimus and Cheetor had to actually hurry to keep up with him. Rhinox had said they'd gotten Dinobot back, but he wasn't going to actually believe it until he saw the warrioress for himself and knew she was safe. Some of the things Megatron had alluded to still weighed heavily on Rattrap's processor. They might have managed to get Dinobot back before Megatron had had a chance to force a sparkbond on her, but what else could he have done..?

The possibilities were endless and terrifying in their uncertainty. Some of them made Rattrap physically queasy to his coolant tank. His pace unconsciously quickened, pain flaring through his fractured back strut. He had to see her and make sure she was safe himself. He wouldn't be able to rest until he did.

After several more frustratingly long klicks, Rattrap finally saw the rendezvous point appear in the distance. A small group of 'bots were already there, standing in a loose circle around another figure kneeling in the center of the group. Rattrap instantly recognized the distinctive blue and gold superstructure and felt a small thrill shoot through his actuator. It was Dinobot. They really had found her.

Putting on an extra burst of speed, Rattrap jogged the last few meters separating himself and his fellow Maximals. As he neared, he noticed the unexpected additions to the rescue team: namely the Predacon femme, Blackarachnia, and an unfamiliar mech with a strange transmetal superstructure. He briefly wondered what they were doing there with the others, but almost immediately shoved that question and several others aside for a later time. Right now, his only concern was the femme kneeling in the middle of the group of Maximals.

An overwhelming sense of relief surged through Rattrap's systems at the sight of the raptor as he ran straight up to Dinobot and dropped to one knee beside her. Airazor was already stationed on the warrioress's other side, one hand resting on the raptor's shoulder plate in an almost protective gesture.

"Dang'it, Choppa'face, d'ya have any idea wha' slag we just went through because 'a you?" Rattrap said. Despite his words, his voice was almost giddy with relief. A wide grin twisted his facial plates. "I almost got beaten inta da ground by ol' Megs. You owe us big fer comin' after yer sorry aft. I always knew ya were more trouble den yeh were worth."

But instead of a sharp retort or even a muffled snarl, Dinobot did not respond to Rattrap's greeting. Head bowed and body slouched as if too tired to sit up straight, the warrioress did not even lift her head off her chest to look in Rattrap's direction.

Taken aback by the raptor's silence, the spy's grin faltered and slowly slid from his face. Rattrap hesitantly leaned closer. "Hey… Lizard Lips? Yeh okay?" he called, a note of worry seeping into his vocals. A cold feeling of dread washed over him as he once again received no kind of response. In fact, as he knelt there stunned by Dinobot's uncharacteristic lack of reaction to his goading, Rattrap noticed that not all was well with the female raptor.

Dinobot knelt hunched forward, bracing herself againt the ground with both arms between her knees. A faint tremor ran through the warrioress's back, arms and shoulders as if her internal regulator had gone on the fritz and her superstructure was trying to generate heat. Condensation beaded across her helm and trickled down the sides of her face in tiny rivulets. Her vents cycled for air in shallow, labored spurts. But more troubling than that or the raptor's continued lack of response to his or anyone else's presence were her optics. Dull and almost lifeless in their vacancy, they stared at some undefined point on the ground as if Dinobot were really looking at something a million light years away.

Becoming increasingly alarmed, Rattrap reached out and touched the side of Dinobot's shoulder. She didn't even blink in response. "Hey. Hey, Dinobot, wha's wrong?" he called, his vocals cracking at the end with mounting urgency. "Com'on, answer me."

"She can't," Airazor said from Dinobot's other side. The female flier moved her hand to the other femme's back and rubbed a short series of circles against her exo-armor as if trying to comfort her with physical touch. It disturbed Rattrap to think that barely even a solar cycle before Dinobot never would have allowed such close physical contact unless she were in the midst of disassembling someone with her bare hands. "Megatron injected her with something."

"What do you mean "injected her with something?"" Rattrap demanded, sqiveling his optics around the assembled group with blossoming outrage. "What was it?"

"A chemical formula created by Tarantulas," Blackarachnia spoke up from where she stood slightly back from the other Maximals. "It makes the victim completely unable to fight back. That dimwit Megatron injected her with it when they first brought Dinobot in but then thought it would be a good idea to re-dose her before he left to fight Primal, and ended up overdosing her. Now she can't stand or even tell you what her own name is."

"Blackarachnia defected and snuck Dinobot out a back way from the Darksyde," Tigatron explained to Optimus, Cheetor and Rattrap. "She managed to get her halfway here before Dinobot collapsed. Our new comrade, Silverbolt, and I practically had to carry her the rest of the way to the rendezvous point."

"I see," Optimus nodded, facial plates a grim mask. He turned towards Rhinox. "What's the status of her condition?"

Rhinox shook his head. "It's uncertain at this point. I've never seen a chemical like this before. There's no way for us to assess its full effects or any lasting damage until we get her back to base and into a CR chamber."

"How are we going to get Dinobot back?" Cheetor asked. He stared at Dinobot with a shell-shocked expression of dismay. "You said she can't walk anymore…"

"We'll have to fly her back. That's our best option at the moment," Optimus murmured. "Dinobot needs medical treatment as soon as possible, and there's no saying when the Predacons will regroup and come after us."

Throughout the entire discussion Dinobot had not reacted once to the repeated mention of her name, and continued to kneel there like a deactivated droid. They might as well have been talking about her as if she wasn't even there. Disturbed beyond words by Dinobot's catatonic state, Rattrap felt as if his coolant tank had just been ripped out from under him.

_Primus… What did he do to you?_ he helplessly wondered as he stared into the warrioress's lifeless optics.

"Blackarachnia," Airazor hesitantly took the opportunity to speak up, "you were there after Megatron drugged Dinobot. He didn't… force himself on her while she was like this, did he?"

An abrupt hush fell over the group of Maximals. All of them turned to stare at the Predacon defector, sickened looks of horror spreading across their faces.

Blackarachnia visibly hesitated. "I don't think so," she finally said after a pause. "But I'm not a hundred percent sure. I wasn't there every minute Megatron was parading her around…"

A sickening feeling twisted Rattrap's fuel lines at the black widow's answer, his mech fluid running cold. He'd already considered such a thing happening - for them to recover Dinobot and find out she'd become the victim of an act only slightly less vile than a forced sparkbond. For as atrocious an act it was, it was not unheard of for enemy captors especially during times of war to take certain… _liberties_ with prisoners. Especially prisoners of the fairer programming or those who were unable to defend themselves.

He'd already considered the possibility. Had tried to mentally prepare himself for the worst. But to actually hear it asked and there be no clear answer somehow made it worse than if Blackarachnia had simply answered with a yes.

An unspeakable knot of fury formed in the back of Rattrap's spark chamber as he stared into Dinobot's lifeless optics. Optics that should be bright with calculating intelligence. Not dead and empty as if the warrioress was already lost to them.

That despicable lizard… That slimy, twisted slagger. If he found out Megatron had touched Dinobot - that he'd forced himself on her in any way, shape or form-

"I'll kill him…" Rattrap hissed under his intakes. His hands unconscious balled into two shaking fists. It wasn't until he noticed the others staring at him with startled looks that he realized he'd just said the last part of what he'd been thinking out loud. He didn't care though. He wanted them to know what he was going to do to that sorry excuse for a 'bot. "If Megatron's touched her… if he's _done_ anything to her, I swear ta Primus I'm gonna march straight back ta dat ship 'n shove another bomb right up his-"

"Calm down, Rattrap," Optimus cut him off. "Now is not the time for thoughts of revenge. We got Dinobot back and right now making sure she gets safely back to base is our primary concern." He paused and took a deep intake as though trying to calm his own emotions. "But I promise you, if we do find out Megatron did something to Dinobot, he will not have only you to answer to for it," he added in a low rumble.

This assurance did little to quell the spy's fury, however, and in fact made him only angrier. Unable to do anything more at the moment than kneel by Dinobot's side and shake with anger, Rattrap listened with only half an audio to his crewmates formulate a plan to move the unresponsive warrioress.

"Who will take Dinobot?" Rhinox said with a glance towards Optimus.

"I will," he replied. "I can carry her easier than Airazor could, and I'll start running scans on her as soon as I get her in a CR chamber."

"I'll come with you as air support in case any Preds decide to try and come after us," Airazor volunteered. By her protective stance over Dinobot it didn't look like she was going to be willingly separated from the other femme until they got the warrioress safely back into Maximal territory.

"Very well," Optimus nodded. "Rhinox, I'm putting you in charge of leading everyone else back to base. When you arrive I want a full report of what happened." He shot a quick look at Silverbolt and Blackarachnia. "I'd also like the opportunity to properly welcome our new recruits to the Maximals."

Blackarachnia did not respond except to shoot a bored, almost indifferent glance at the transmetal gorilla; but Silverbolt dipped his head to Optimus in a respectful bow.

"Thank you, sir," he said with utter sincerity and the faintest hint of subdued relief.

Over the course of this brief exchange, attention was momentarily shifted away from Dinobot, and no one - including Rattrap - noticed the weak points of actual awareness that flickered to life in the depths of the warrioress's optics.

Optimus returned Silverbolt's bow with a quick nod. "Beast-mode!" he called, and in a flurry of shifting plates and limbs transformed into his jet-mode form. Balanced on his jet board, he hovered half a dozen inches above the ground. "Rhinox, can you lift Dinobot for me?" he asked.

Unseen by anyone else, the faint glow of light in Dinobot's optics brightened, like weak beams of sunlight breaking through a heavy bank of clouds.

Rhinox stepped up to Rattrap and Airazor and stooped down beside the raptor. "Come on, Dinobot. Let's get you home," he said as he reached out to take the drugged femme into his arms. But before his fingers could even make contact with Dinobot, something unexpected happened…

Like mist dissipating in the heat of the morning sun, the foggy haze choking Dinobot's neural circuits seemed to momentarily lift. Stray fragments of code sluggishly drifted together to form the first coherent line of thought the raptor had had in over a solar cycle. Instinctively grabbing hold of this half materialized offer of self-awareness, the warrioress struggled to break past the haze of drugs that seemed to clog her processor like viscous black motor oil. Sluggishly, she flickered her optics, driving the blurry ring of haze back towards the edges of her visual readout.

As the raptor's senses cleared a little more, she became distantly aware of a presence close beside her. She could not muster the energy to lift her head to see who it was, but whoever it was felt non-threatening and warm, almost… safe. Tired of the murky darkness of her disjointed thoughts, Dinobot wanted nothing more than to be closer to that tiny sanctuary of safety. To be warm and anchor herself in some semblance of conscious reality.

But before she could muster the energy to move closer or discover the unknown presence's identity, a pair of thick pedes stepped into her line of view. Another presence - this one larger, bulkier, and undoubtedly stronger than the first one - came to stand over her. Dwarfed by the sheer mass of the other being, its shadow engulfed her like the inky veil of a solar eclipse. A giant set of hands reached out for her from the corner of her peripheral vision.

The memory of another set of hands flashed through Dinobot's memory drives. Hands that constantly reached out to touch her. To grab her. To caress her arms and shoulders in long slow passes. Hands that clutched her with the unspoken promise of never letting her go. Hands that were possessive and frightening in their relentless pursuit of her. Hands that wouldn't let her go or leave her alone. Hands she wanted nothing more than to escape from and never let touch her again…

Rhinox slowly reached down to slid his arms under Dinobot's legs and back to lift her off the ground.

"…no," Dinobot murmured, weakly shaking her helm. Barely louder than an intake, no one heard the warrioress's slurred plea. She watchd as the hands moved ever closer, their fingers outstretched and grasping. "No," she said, desperation giving more strength to her feeble voice. The hands were getting closer. One had disappeared from her line of vision to slip around her back. The other was stretching out in front of her towards her legs. "NO!"

The weak cry exploded like gunfire from the warrioress. With alarming speed considering her drugged state, she blindly lashed out at Rhinox - her talons just barely missing the engineer's arm - before she viciously twisted away from the larger mech. Frantically kicking against the ground, Dinobot scrambled backwards. Too weak to stand or even coordinate her limbs to move properly, she managed to crawl only half a dozen feet before her strength gave out and she sagged to the ground. Trembling and cycling air in great gasping heaves, Dinobot uselessly pushed against the ground to stand or at least get her feet up under her. But all her efforts proved in vain as she heavily collapsed down onto one hip, and sat there shaking and utterly exhausted. She swayed slightly from side to side where she sat, as if she was actually still standing and rapidly losing control of basic motor functions. Condensation rolled down the sides of her helm in thick rivulets. She stared only in Rhinox and other Maximals' general direction, unable to properly focus on any particular point.

"… don' touch me… leav'me 'lone…" she gasped, her words nothing more than whisper-thin strings of syllables. She groggily swung her optics around as if trying to assess her surroundings. Rattrap couldn't say for sure if she actually saw anything she was looking at. "Wh'er'm I…?" she slurred, her voice cracking with mounting panic - something Rattrap never thought he'd ever hear in the warrioress's voice. It sent a cold spike of dread through his spark.

For a moment everyone stood frozen in place, too startled to react except to dumbly stare at the trembling raptor. Airazor was the first to regain her composure.

"It's alright, Dinobot," she said, slowly stepping towards the other femme. She spoke in an exaggeratedly slow and reassuring tone. "You're back with your comrades. We're not going to hurt you. We're going to take you back home. We-"

But the flier didn't get a chance to finish as the raptor swiped her claws at her before Airazor could cover the last few feet separating them. Despite the jerky, uncoordinated motion of the swing, Dinobot's aim was frighteningly accurate considering her current state. Airazor managed to leap backwards only nano-klicks before Dinobot's claws slashed the air she'd been occupying mere seconds before.

"…leav'me 'lone," the warrioress growled, although any truly intimidating effect was loss behind the garbled slur of her words. "don' touch me…"

As if caught in the middle of a tense standoff, no one else moved forward to calm the disoriented femme. Whether that was out of fear or lingering shock of Dinobot sudden lucidity, Rattrap couldn't say for sure. But as the nano-klicks ticked by and it became apparent no one else was going to risk approaching Dinobot in her half-aware state, Rattrap could no longer stand the sight of the ex-Predacon warrioress kneeling there alone and shaking from chemically induced tremors anymore.

Focusing his attention on no one else but Dinobot, Rattrap slowly got to his pedes and took a tentative step towards the trembling raptor, hands held out to his sides in a defenseless posture. "Hey, com'on now, Lizard Lips, don' be like dat. We'r tryin' ta help ya. We'r not gonna hurt ya, so just calm down 'n listen ta me." As if actually listening, Dinobot's optics sluggishly swiveled up towards him. When she didn't react badly to his continued approach, Rattrap cautiously crept closer - ready to jump backwards at a moment's notice if he had to. But Dinobot didn't seemed threatened by the tiny Maximal and merely watched him approach with dull, flickering optics.

"I know ye'r not feelin' well right now, but I swear ta Primus if yeh try ta turn me inta swiss cheese I'll turn ya inta a leather couch faster den ya can blink yer optics."

Dinobot, however, made no move to deactivate Rattrap, and stared at him with glazed optics as he slowly sank to his knees in front of her. She looked like she was mere seconds away from slipping into stasis mode.

"Yer safe now," he continued in a steady stream of reassuring words. "Ol' Megs can't getcha anymore. I know ya hate accepting help from anyone, but we'll take care of ya until yer better. I'm not gonna let anyone hurt ya anymore…"

Dinobot stared at Rattrap for a long moment of silence like a wounded, frightened animal - her body hunched and shaking. Her optics sluggishly flickered off and on several times as if she were having trouble focusing on the tiny Maximal. She drunkenly swayed on her knees from side to side. Then, with no warning, as if unable to hold herself upright anymore Dinobot suddenly slumped forward, her entire body going limp.

Rattrap's arms instinctively shot out to catch her. Grabbing the warrioress by the shoulders, he pulled her towards him to keep her from colliding with the harsh ground. Dinobot heavily leaned against his side, her helm cradled in the hollow between his neck and shoulder plate. Rattrap sagged under the warrioress's heavier weight but refused to relinquish his hold on the taller femme. If anything he clutched her closer, relishing the weight of her superstructure in his arms and the warm puff of her intakes against his neck. It reaffirmed the fact they'd manage to get her back alive and in one piece.

If only he could hold the surly raptor like this when she wasn't half-offlined and so drugged up he could almost hear her neural circuits sloshing around…

Shifting Dinobot into a slightly more comfortable position, Rattrap settled back onto his haunches. "Hate ta break dis to ya, Choppa'face, but you should consider goin' on 'a diet. Even without all dat mech armor ya still weigh half 'a ton."

Dinobot groggily blinked her optics in response, as if too far gone to register anything being said or done around her. "…smells…" she murmured in a drunken whisper against his throat. The corner of her upper lip curled up in a weak sneer of disgust. Despite the unflattering comment Dinobot seemed to press herself closer to Rattrap's battle-dented body, as if unconsciously seeking warmth and safety.

Rattrap couldn't help but chuckle at the warrioress's observation. "Aw, yer such'a sweet-talker, Dino-breath. But it's not like I haven' heard dat one before. And not ta start throwin' insults around or anythin', but yeh don't exactly smell like a bed of roses yerself right now."

"Is she alright?" Airazor whispered, cautiously moving closer to the pair. She made sure to maintain a safe distance from Dinobot however just in case she had another semi-lucid panic attack. Concern shined brightly in the flier's optics as she surveyed Dinobot's trembling form.

The other Maximals tentatively followed Airazor's lead and came to stand in a loose circle around the two.

"I don' think so," Rattrap shook his helm. His lips were pulled down in a grim frown. "We need ta get her back ta base."

"Man, she is _out_ of it," Cheetor said as he leaned closer to stare at Dinobot in morbid fascination.

"You'd be too if Megatron shot you full of drugs, Spots, so shut yer trap," Rattrap snapped - perhaps a bit too harshly he realized a few seconds after the fact. His arms unconsciously tightened around Dinobot, as if physically trying to shield her from unwelcome scrutiny.

Dinobot had begun to shake harder, her entire body trembling against his chassis. She was now fully slumped against Rattrap. She was no longer even trying to sit up on her own power. Her optics were barely online. Only the faintest hint of light shined in them now.

"Let's move," Optimus urgently cut in. "Dinobot can't wait any longer. Rhinox, can you try lifting her again?"

The engineer eyed the raptor distrustfully, but obediently stepped forward. "Okay, let's try this again," he rumbled as he stooped down beside the warrioress. "But hopefully without a repeat performance of last time."

Dinobot didn't even look in his direction as he reached out and cautiously slipped his arms under her knees and back. As Rhinox's grip tightened and he began to gently pull Dinobot away from Rattrap, however, the warrioress seemed to partially come out of her drugged stupor and leaned forward against the larger mech's pull. One hand blindly shot out towards Rattrap as if scrambling for something to hold onto in order to keep her place near the spy. She weakly struggled for a moment before finally - unwillingly - surrendering to Rhinox and letting herself fall backwards into the engineer's burly arms.

Rattrap could do nothing more than hollowly stare after her as Rhinox pulled Dinobot to him and stood with the warrioress cradled close against his chest. His arms felt strangely empty now with Dinobot no longer there to occupy them.

The warrioress did not fight or even struggle as the engineer turned and gently passed her over into Optimus's outstretched arms. As Optimus settled her against his chasssis, Rattrap saw that the dim points of light in Dinobot's optics had disappeared along with any other conscious functions. At some point in between being taken from Rattrap and transferred over into their commander's arms, the raptor had drifted offline. Dinobot's head, arms and legs dangled over the transmetal ape's elbows and lifelessly swayed back and forth in the air to the rhythm of his movements as if she were really dead and nothing more than an empty, sparkless shell.

An unexplainably cold feeling shot through Rattrap's spark at the thought - the jolt frightening and almost painful in its intensity.

"We'll meet you all back at base," Optimus said as he revved his jet board for takeoff and Airazor converted to beast mode. Without another word, the two fliers kicked off the ground and took to the air. The other Maximals watched in silence as the two banked due east in the direction of the Axalon and sped away, Dinobot securely held in Optimus's arms.

Rattrap continued to stare after Optimus and Airazor and their unconscious charge long after they disappeared over the horizon. Standing there, lost in thought, a hollow feeling similar to loneliness and loss spread through Rattrap's chassis.

Strange, Rattrap mused with an overdeveloped sense of irony. He had thought saving Dinobot would have released him from this confusing mess of emotions. But instead, rescuing the raptor seemed to have only intensified them to all new heights.

"Don't worry," the newest Predacon defector - Silverbolt was it? - said with a reassuring nod to Rattrap as he stepped forward to stand beside the smaller mech. "I'm sure your sparkmate will be alright. The commander will no doubt take care of her until you are able to rejoin her."

Startled by the new mech's comment, Rattrap looked up at him and numbly shook his head. "She's not my sparkmate…"

The fuzor stared at Rattrap in open surprise. "Oh," he murmured, taken aback. "Please forgive me if I've offended you. It's just that by how you and she interacted, I only assumed…"

"Don't worry about it," Rattrap said, suddenly too tired to try and explain his and Dinobot's relationship to this naïve newcomer. Even if he did, what would he have said? That they were comrades who could barely stand each other half the time and constantly bickered the other half? Or that despite all that, Dinobot was the only 'bot Rattrap would willing risk his safety and well-being for in order to save?

Yeah. That made a _ton_ of sense…

Too impatient, tired and confused to see if his fellow Maximals followed suit, Rattrap converted to beast mode in a flurry of shifting parts, transformed his legs into wheels and - not waiting for anyone else - took off in a fine cloud of dust in the direction Optimus had disappeared with his unconscious charge.

_To be continued…_

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	10. Into Unknown Territory

**Chapter Ten: In to Unknown Territory**

All was quiet in the Axalon's med-bay. The only sounds to break the oppressive silence was the faint hum of air cycling through the ship's ventilation ducts and the rhythmic drip of energon through a medical intra-circulatory line. The majority of the med-bay was bathed in darkness and patches of pitch black shadows. On the far side of the room a single bank of low-intensity florescent lights had been lit above the med-bay's only occupied berth, creating a small island of muted white light in the stagnant sea of gloom.

Rattrap sat slouched forward in a chair beside the berth, his superstructure stiff with residual tension as he stared at its unconscious occupant. Dinobot lay stretch out on her back, a thin thermal blanket draped over her. A thick tube ran from a suspended pack of filtered medical-grade energon hanging on a hook above her berth down to her right arm where the line disappeared into the soft substructure between her forearm and bicep plates. The muffled drip of it echoed through the otherwise empty room. The only reassurance Rattrap had that the warrioress was not actually permanently offline was the shallow rise and fall of her chest plate beneath the thermal blanket and the occasional internal click of her self-repair functions resetting themselves.

Rattrap woodenly stared at the recharging femme, unconsciously counting the seconds between each new intake the raptor took. Despite having rescued Dinobot more than half a stellar cycle ago, Rattrap still couldn't quite shake the insistent, niggling churn of disquiet at the bottom of his fuel tank. He supposed part of it was because the warrioress lay there so silent and still, not even twitching a cable. Never had he seen Dinobot so quiet before. At least when they'd rescued her from Megatron she'd still been online and marginally responsive to outside influences. But right now she barely even seemed functional.

When Rattrap had returned to the ship from their rescue mission, he'd been dismayed to learn that the CR chambers were useless against Tarantulas's neural serum. They were just going to have to let the drug run its course. And so it'd been decided that they move Dinobot to med-bay where she could rest and recover in peace.

Rattrap had automatically volunteered to watch over Dinobot until she came back online, but his offer had been almost immediately shot down by Rhinox who had ordered him into the nearest CR chamber for repairs. If his spark chamber hadn't been throbbing so painfully from his encounter with Megatron, and he didn't feel like he was being repeatedly stabbed in the back by a series of giant electrified blades, he might have put up more of a protest. But as it was he really wouldn't have been in any condition to protest if Rhinox decided to physically force him to follow advice.

The only reason he'd ultimately relented was because Airazor promised she'd stay with Dinobot until he came out of the CR chamber. He'd relieved her several hours ago. Airazor had left med-bay with the promise of coming back to check on Dinobot again later that day, but not before throwing Rattrap a small, somehow _knowing_ grin he didn't quite feel comfortable trying to interpret. Not that he had dwelled on it for very long, in any case. After Airazor left, silence had descended upon the room and Rattrap had found himself finally blissfully alone with his unconscious teammate, rival, and friend. Ever since, his optics had not strayed far from Dinobot's direction. There was a certain comfort in being able to sit so close to her without anyone there watching or trying to analyze his thoughts or actions. Nor could he deny the nervous churn of his fuel tank was soothed a little with each one of Dinobot's soft intakes - proving over and over to him through sight, sound and physical presence that they'd been able to save the warrioress from Megatron. He probably wouldn't believe Dinobot was truly back until she came back online and shot him one of her infamous snarls.

Rattrap's lips unconsciously curled upwards at the thought. He couldn't wait for that. He'd become used to Dinobot's sneers and generally abrasive personality. And Primus help him if he hadn't come to enjoy their almost daily exchange of insults. Dinobot made things interesting on the Axalon. It'd just taken her being kidnapped, drugged and almost forced into an unwanted sparkbond for him to realize how much he'd come to appreciate her presence and (dare he say it?) _like_ her.

The smile slowly slid from Rattrap's facial plates as a much more somber and troubled expression rose to replace it. There was that thought again. The one he'd been consciously pushing from his processor again and again over the last few stellar cycles so he wouldn't have to acknowledge what it could mean for him and his scaly companion. But there was no more denying it. Too much had happened for him to go on pretending these random surges of thoughts or emotions whenever the ex-Predacon warrioress was in question meant nothing. Here, in the quiet of med-bay with no one else there except Dinobot herself, he could finally admit to himself what he'd been trying so hard to ignore for longer than he could really remember:

He liked Dinobot.

And a _lot _if the painful constriction of his fuel lines when Dinobot was captured or when he'd seen what state she'd been in when they'd rescued her were any indication...

Everybody else saw it even when Rattrap had tried so hard to hide it. Even _Megatron_ had seen through his weak façade of indifference towards the warrioress. Slag, that new mech Silverbolt had thought they were actually sparkmates!

Rattrap heaved a heavy sigh, reaching up to massage the narrow pinch of space between his optics. Oh, who was he kidding? He liked the scaly lizard more than he cared to admit. He thought he was going to be physically sick to his coolant tank when Terrorsaur knocked Dinobot out and flown off with her. And not that he'd actually admit it to anyone out loud, but he'd been more than a little thrilled when she had let only him near her while she'd been in the midst of a semi-lucid panic attack.

It was just a shame Dinobot never would have let him that close to her if she hadn't been drugged to the vents. If he'd ever tried to touch Dinobot like that when she was fully functional Rattrap more than likely would have been parted with several limbs and a good chuck of internal wiring and circuitry. As much as he secretly wished he could have responded to Silverbolt with an affirmative nod, the ghostly echo of Megatron's words rose in the back of his processor to remind him why such a thing could never be.

Dinobot was a warrior - strong, ambitious, intelligent. What would she ever want with mech like him? He'd practically gotten his aft pummeled into the ground by Megatron. Why would she ever want to be with a 'bot that could barely defend himself? No doubt she'd want a mate at least as strong as her if not more so. Someone who could stand side by side with her on the battlefield, or at least meet her optics without her having to look down…

Rattrap felt an overwhelming sense of hopelessness wash over him. What Megatron had said before was right: Dinobot would never return his feelings or accept him as anything more than an annoying comrade. That much he was certain of.

The Maximal spy tried to comfort himself with reassurances that that was probably for the best. That she was a smelly, bad-tempered, ex-Predacon saurian traitor who couldn't be trusted any farther than he could throw her. Yet while all that might be true, why did he still feel like he'd just had his spark chamber run through a trash compactor?

Heaving a helpless sigh, Rattrap glanced at the offline femme beside him. Of all the 'bots in the universe, why did he have to fall for the living embodiment of everything he loathed and hated? Why couldn't he have found a nice respectable 'bot he could spend more than thirty minutes with without getting into a fight? Someone who wasn't so brash and confrontational? Someone who didn't snarl and bite or walk around with the constant threat of causing unspeakable bodily harm hanging over her? Someone who wasn't a former member of the enemy-faction and newest obsession of said enemy-faction's leader?

_Because then she wouldn't be as interesting_, a voice somewhere in the back of Rattrap's processor answered before he could even finish pondering his sad and sorry state of affairs. Because Dinobot intrigued him. She was a Predacon turncoat who had more honor and self-discipline in one servo than Rattrap could ever hope to have in his entire superstructure. She was a brave and fearless warrior who would rush into battle without a second thought for her own safety. She was a femme who had refused to accept her "place" in Cybertronian society and had sacrificed almost everything she had to prove herself despite innumerable odds. If that didn't deserve respect and admiration then nothing did. Nor could he forget her bravery, determination and refusal to back down from anyone - including himself.

Rattrap supposed that was what he liked most about her: her attitude and snark. Never had he met anyone who was willing to stand up to him in a verbal sparring match like Dinobot. She was smart and inventive, and could give back just as good as she got. If that wasn't a recipe for infatuation than he supposed nothing was. There was just something undeniably alluring in knowing the raptor was there for him to goad into a fight or to do something to infuriate her to the point that her optics flashed a beautiful fiery red as she stared down at him with bared teeth...

Rattrap had to force himself away from following that line of code any farther. As much as he enjoyed seeing that look of utter fury on the warrioress's face, now was not the time to be thinking such things. Especially when said warrioress was currently in no condition to engage in any kind of battle - verbal or otherwise. And when Dinobot was not truly his to taunt…

Trying to ignore the lingering sensation of melancholy in the pit of his coolant tank, Rattrap turned his attention back to the unconscious raptor. No matter how hopeless his situation, however, he wasn't about to leave Dinobot's side until she woke and was back on her own two pedes or she sent him away with threats of bodily harm. Either way, he'd resigned himself to the fact that he had no chance of ever being anything more to the bad-tempered femme than he already was. This was probably the closest he was ever going to get to Dinobot without her trying to bring him to an early termination by means of her own claws. He was going to enjoy this time while it lasted; being able to just sit there and listen to the soft whistle of Dinobot's intakes without the need for insults or offensive jokes as an excuse to get close to her.

If only as an excuse to momentarily close the gap between himself and the warrioress, Rattrap leaned forward to adjust the edge of the thermal blanket Rhinox had draped over her when they'd moved her to med-bay. It seemed Tarantulas's drug had not only mucked up Dinobot's neural circuits so they could barely string two lines of code together, but also messed up several of Dinobot's other internal functions: one of them being her core temperature regulator. She's stopped shaking sometime during Rattrap's stay in the CR chamber while Airazor had been watching over her. But that didn't mean she didn't still need it to help her maintain a comfortable core temperature.

Smoothing out the nonexistent crease he'd convinced himself was there, Rattrap leaned back in his chair again. Without even thinking, Rattrap glanced at the warrioress's face, expecting to find it slack and its harsh edges smoothed with sleep.

-only to find Dinobot staring up at him with dim, half onlined optics.

Rattrap instantly froze, as if he'd just been caught doing something he shouldn't.

Dinobot groggily flickered her optics, staring at Rattrap for a long moment of silence. "…rodent?" she murmured, her voice thick and rough as if she was trying to speak past a lump of half-congealed sludge in her vocal box. She sluggishly swung her optics away from Rattrap in a large arc to take in the room. "Where am I?"

Rattrap scrambled to regain his composure. Before any normal 'bot would have noticed something was amiss, he schooled his face plate into a carefully neutral expression.

"Hey,Choppa'face! Welcome back ta da land of da livin,'" he said with a cheeky grin. Despite himself he couldn't completely keep the relief out of his voice.

"Where am I?" Dinobot asked again, this time with a bit more strength behind it.

"In da med-bay of da Axalon," Rattrap replied. "It took us one heck of 'a time tryin' ta get ya back from ol' Mega-dip."

Dinobot groggily flickered her optics several times, as though trying to drive back static from her visual readout. She still had yet to move or make any attempt to sit up, which was the closest thing to Dinobot saying she wasn't feeling well. Rattrap's spark gave a painful twinge at the thought. Dinobot did not seem like the type of 'bot to remain in such a vulnerable position while someone else stood (or sat) at a higher optic level than herself. It felt wrong to actually be looking _down _at Dinobot for once. There was just something inherently wrong with the idea.

"You Maximals came after me?" she murmured.

"Well, let's just say it wasn't any choice of mine ta save yer scaly hide, but… yeah. We came after ya," Rattrap replied with an indifferent shrug.

"Why?" Dinobot demanded.

Rattrap gave another offhanded shrug. "Wha' can I say? No matter how ugly or smelly yeh are, yer one of us now. We were obligated to."

Dinobot snorted. "Such misplaced sympathies are why this war has yet to be won. Optimus was a fool to approve such an expenditure of resources and troops to rescue only one 'bot. You should have left me."

"I'll remember dat da next time Megs or any of his goons kidnap you," Rattrap replied.

One corner of Dinobot's lips curled up in a disgusted sneer. "Mark my words, vermin: I have no intention of ever being taken alive like that again. If Megatron or any of his subordinates try to capture me again, I will be sure to take as many of them down with me as I can before finally surrendering myself to the Well of Allsparks. As a warrior, that is the only death by which I could acceptingly leave this mortal coil."

A cold sensation crept over Rattrap at the warrioress's proclamation. Despite his misgivings for such a fatalistic goal, he knew no other termination would appease the taciturn femme. Pushing those uneasy feelings aside, however, Rattrap tried to make light of the comment by spinning it into a sarcastic jab. "Well, then let's hope Megatron doesn't have anymore of dat stuff he drugged you up wit' last time. 'Cause da way I remember it, you were in no condition ta be takin' anyone down in a fight when we found ya."

Her face pulled into an angry grimace, Dinobot turned her head away from Rattrap. "Yes… I vaguely remember Megatron injecting me with something after I came back online in the Darksyde. But everything afterwards is nothing more than a blur to me. I remember almost nothing."

"Yea. You were in pretty bad shape when we found ya," Rattrap said. "I don't think I've ever seen ya so out of it. Yeh barely recognized anyone. Yeh almost took out Airazor and Rhinox 'cause ya thought they were tryin' ta hurt ya. Lucky fer us though ya finally went offline so we could haul ya back ta base."

Dinobot looked back at him and glared. "I assure you, rodent, I will endeavor not to be placed in such a state again."

Rattrap grinned, pleased to see some of Dinobot's feistiness returning. But then growing somber once again, the spy's grin slowly slid from his face. There were still many unanswered questions concerning Dinobot's captivity that weighed heavily on his processor. Ones he didn't know if he really wanted the answers to but knew he wouldn't be able to rest until he did.

Steeling his resolve for the task he knew he had to complete, Rattrap nervously shifted in his seat. "So yeh said ya don't… uh, remember anythin,' do ya, Dino-breath?"

"Very little," the warrioress affirmed.

"D'ya remember if Megatron said what he wanted ya for?"

Dinobot searched her memory banks for a moment before finally replying with a disgusted sneer, "He wanted me to rejoin the Predacons and become his Second in Command. But with the assumption that I would become his… _consort_." Dinobot practically spat the last word out, contempt dripping off each syllable like toxic grease.

"What did you say?" Rattrap prodded, undeniably curious despite himself.

Dinobot shot him a withering glare. "What do you think I said, vermin? I told him 'no' and asserted my stance on the matter by trying to detach Megatron's spark from the rest of his superstructure with my own two servos for assuming I would ever sell myself to another for position or power." The warrioress quieted and lay still for a long moment of silence, staring up at the ceiling, before finally resuming her speech in a much softer tone. "Unfortunately, Megatron knows what things to say to make me temporarily disregard logic in the heat of battle and recklessly attack. I did not realize what danger he was luring me into until he had me subdued and unable to prevent him from injecting me with that chemical…"

"He said he was plannin' ta force ya inta a Sparkbond," Rattrap hesitantly confessed. "If we hadn' of attacked when we did we might'a been too late ta stop him…"

Dinobot's optics instantly snapped away from the point on the ceiling she'd been staring at and locked onto Rattrap, her usually impassive features betraying an unmistakable look of horrified alarm. Rattrap sat tense in his seat, momentarily stunned speechless by the naked fear shining in the battle-toughened femme's optics. He felt his spark involuntarily clench at the sight. It was a look he never thought he's see on Dinobot's face, nor one he ever wanted to see again.

"What?" she demanded in a harsh whisper, as if unable to believe what the smaller Maximal had just said.

"That's what he was plannin' ta do," Rattrap said with a reluctant nod. "He pretty much told us straight out that was what he was gonna do right after he finished fightin' us." When Dinobot did not respond and continued to stare at him with a horror-struck expression, Rattrap forced down the unpleasant churn in his coolant tanks and found his vocals to continue despite his intense desire not to. But he had to know for sure…

It took great effort for him to find the right words to voice his question. "Megatron… he didn't… _do_ anythin' ta ya, did he? Ya know, when yeh weren't able ta fight back…?"

Dinobot released a shuddery intake, finally breaking eye contact to turn her head away from him towards the other side of the room. Her entire body seemed to sag in on itself. It took Rattrap half a horrified nano-klik to realize the gesture was one of relief and not something worse. "No," she softly murmured. "If he'd completed a Bond, or… taken any other kind of liberties while I was incapacitated I'm sure I would have sensed it by now. I am almost certain I am uncompromised."

Rattrap's actuator gave an almost painful skip at Dinobot's reply, relief flooding his system. He suddenly felt weightless and free. It was rather startling how much tension he'd been holding inside without even realizing it until the burden suddenly disappeared. It was alright. His worst fears for Dinobot's integrity had been unnecessary. Rattrap wasn't sure how Dinobot would have taken it if the worst really had happened. He wasn't sure how _he _would have taken it if the worst had happened and he'd had to see that look of devastated realization settle over the raptor's face… Just the thought of what _could_ and almost _had_ happened were almost too much for the spy's processor to bear. He didn't want to even think about it. He could only thank Primus Fate had decided to briefly shine on the ex-Predacon warrioress and save her from an unspeakable future.

Dinobot, however, did not seem to share Rattrap's view of what a precious gift the fickle hand of Luck had bestowed upon her. If anything, she looked downright irate - her facial plates screwed into a fearsome expression of anger and optics bright with suppressed fury.

"Wha's wrong, Lizard Lips?" Rattrap asked, stunned by the warrioress's unexplainable rage. After all she'd survived, shouldn't she be happy?

Her dentals bared in a ricktus of outrage, Dinobot glared into the distance. She silently seethed for several klicks before finally seeming to pull herself together enough to look in Rattrap's direction and grind out between gritted dentals, "I should have been stronger…"

Rattrap blankly stared at her, still not comprehending what the problem was.

"I should have never allowed myself to be backed into such a situation where my integrity and very life were put into jeopardy," she explained with a frustrated growl. It took Rattrap a moment to realize the warrioress was not mad at him or anyone else so much as she was upset with herself and her own perceived weakness. "I should have been able to defend myself better. Not only did Megatron almost take away every essence of my freedom, but my plight also put the lives of my comrades in danger…" She angrily turned her head to stare up at the ceiling, as if wanting nothing more than to activate her optic lazars and blast a hole straight up through the Axalon's outer hull. "A true warrior would have never allowed herself to be captured or taken alive. I am a disgrace to my caste."

Weakly lifting her arm, Dinobot reached across her body with the other hand and gripped the head of the energon line where it disappeared between the seams of her armor into her substructure - ready to tear it out with a vicious tug.

"Whoa!" Rattrap yelled, diving forward across her to grab the warrioress's wrist before she could do so. "Wha' da heck do ya think yer doin?"

"I do not wish to stay here like some helpless invalid," Dinobot snarled as she attempted to shake his hand from her and push herself up off the berth.

Rattrap, however, pushed her back down with alarming ease. For all her strength, the warrioress might as well have been a day old sparkling for all the good her struggling did against the smaller spy. Dinobot feebly strained and thrashed for several moments before finally relenting and lying back against the berth with a defeated growl. She openly glared up at Rattrap as he leaned away from her and sat back in his chair beside the berth.

"Don't give me dat look, Scalebelly," he snorted. He'd long ago built up an immunity to the raptor's death-glares. "Yer in no condition ta be gettin' up just yet. Da CR chambers can't do anythin' ta help clear da rest of dat drug outta yer system, so until it's completely gone yer just gonna have ta stay here in med-bay."

The warrioress gnashed her teeth. "And just who plans to keep me here, rodent? You?"

"If need be," Rattrap replied with a careless shrug. "After all, after dat lil' display just now I don't think yeh'd really give me much trouble."

Dinobot visibly seethed under her circuits, but made no move to try and sit up again. She continued to glare at him for several klicks before finally turning away to stare at the ceiling again.

Rattrap skeptically relaxed back into his chair, still not ready to believe Dinobot had consented defeat just yet. It wasn't in the femme's nature to give up so easily.

"Just lie back and rest, Choppa'face," he said as he tried to make himself comfortable. He took the opportunity to fold his arms across his chest. "It's not like I'm plannin' ta go anywhere so yeh can try an' sneek out while no one's lookin.'"

"Why do you care what I do?" Dinobot wearily shot back as if her brief struggle had drained her of all extra energy. She was pointedly not looking in his direction - her optics remaining firmly riveted on the ceiling above the berth. Rattrap's spark sank slightly at the snub. What he wouldn't give for her to look at him just once without anger or contempt. "You said it yourself you did not care one way or another if I was rescued or not. So why should you care now if I wish to recover in the privacy of my own quarters and not here under your mocking scrutiny? I'm sure you must find seeing me in such a weak and pitiful state amusing."

Rattrap's spark sank even further at Dinobot's assumptions as to his motives. Why did everything have to be so slaggin' difficult with her? He was once again forced to wonder why out of all the 'bots in the universe he'd had to fall for possibly the deadliest, most stubborn and socially inept one of them all.

"I don't think you're pitiful _or_ weak," he said with a sigh. "I just don't wanna see yeh hurt yerself by tryin' ta prove ta everybody how strong ya are. We already know ya are."

"Don't give me that Maximal spew about respect and acceptance as though it's some kind of universal right," Dinobot spat. "Respect is earned on the battlefield through strength and ability. Acceptance is only given when one has proven herself worthy of it."

"An' ya don't think yeh've earned our respect?" Rattrap asked.

Dinobot refused to meet his optics and instead stared off to the side. "If I had any of your respect before I don't deserve it now for what I allowed to happen…" she angrily muttered at the far wall.

Rattrap sighed heavily, disheartened by the conviction behind the warrioress's warped views of the world. "It wasn' yer fault what happened. How could'ja ever blame yerself fer what dat big purple lizard tried ta do ta you?"

"Because I should have been strong enough to defend myself, or at least put up more of a fight against Tarantulas' neural serum," she shot back, self-disgust radiating off her in almost tangible waves. "Anyone unable to do such a minor task deserves no respect…"

"Slaggit, Dino-brains!" the spy cried in utter exasperation. "I swear sometimes yer da stupiest 'bot I've ever had da misfortune of meetin.'" Dinobot turned her helm back towards him and met his optics as if mildly intrigued to hear what he had to say. "Do ya really believe even a word of dat self-righteous slag yer spoutin' or is it just ta try an' save face? Yer not some third-class grunt Optimus decided ta let on his crew just because he felt sorry fer ya. Ya've earned yer place here. I just don' understand why yeh can't accept dat…"

At some point during his frustrated rant, Rattrap had leaned forward in his seat so that he was now leaning well over the edge of Dinobot's berth towards her. Regaining some small measure of composure over himself he went on in a more subdued tone, "…I know yer probably not gonna believe me, but I wasn't really bein' a hundred percent truthful when I said I didn' care if we got ya back or not. I've… kinda gotten used ta yer stench an' would've missed not havin' yeh around ta harass anymore…"

Dinobot stared at him, her optic ridges scrunched together as if unsure whether to believe him or suspect this to be the lead-up to the punch line of some twisted joke. As though choosing to air on the side of caution, she seemed to decide on the latter and snarled up at him, "And why should I believe such poignant words coming from the mouth of a garbage eating rodent? What would you know of honor or respect? What would you know of what I've earned or not? Weren't you yourself present to see my disgrace when I had to be rescued from Megatron's clutches because I no longer had any control over my own neural functions? Why should you care where I stand amongst this crew when I am nothing to you but a lying, ex-Predacon femme who must rely on the pity of her adopted faction to save her?"

The warrioress's words were cutting and cruel - full of scorn and hatred. But not towards the tiny Maximal spy; towards herself. The self-contempt and frustration in Dinobot's vocals cut Rattrap straight to the core. Somehow listening to such a strong and capable 'bot talk about herself with so much self-doubt and disgust felt like a sin to Rattrap - like a back-handed slap in the face of what she was and what she strived so hard to be. It was physically painful for him to hear such slanderous words coming from the one he'd come to respect and secretly admire so much.

No longer thinking, no longer even worried about the ramifications of what he said or did anymore, Rattrap swooped down over the prostrate femme and sealed his lips over the warrioress's mouth with a muffled clang of metal - if for nothing more than to make Dinobot stop her self-hating tirade.

The raptor instantly fell silent, her entire body going stiff. Dinobot's lips were motionless and slightly cold against his own. They remained frozen like that for a long moment of silence, neither of them making a sound. Rattrap slowly disengaged his mouth from Dinobot and leaned back just far enough to meet her optics. His lips tingled slightly at the loss of contact. The warrioress, meanwhile, remained completely motionless where she lay, staring up at him with startled, questioning optics. Rattrap wondered if he'd just unintentionally made Dinobot's CPU crash. Not that he was complaining, but he was almost certain that if Dinobot had been in top fighting form - her shock not withstanding - this would have been the moment she launched herself at him and tried to rip him limb from limb for his suicidal act.

But instead the warrioress lay there silent and still, offering no insight to her own inner thoughts except for an almost comical look of shock on her facial plates.

Throwing caution to the wind (after all, he'd already crossed the point of no return so why should he try to hide or deny anything now?) Rattrap met Dinobot's startled gaze and held it steadily with his own.

"I don't pity ya…" he murmured softly. His voice sounded uncomfortably loud in the tense silence that had descended on the empty med-bay and thickened the air around them like a physical presence. "I never have. An' I do care 'bout where yeh stand amongst da crew. 'Cause ya already earned my respect a long time ago. Wha' happened with Megatron hasn' changed anythin.' If anythin,' I respect ya even more now den I did before because of all da slag ya went through an' still somehow managed ta come out alive…"

For several unbearably long klicks of unbroken silence Dinobot did nothing more than blankly stare up at Rattrap. Unease shot through Rattrap's systems as the seconds ticked by and the warrioress still did not offer any sort of reaction to his impromptu confession. Rattrap's neural processes immediately jumped into overdrive. What was she thinking? Had he impressed her with his speech? Or had he unintentionally said something to sour the femme with his inarticulate verbal spew of emotions? Over time he'd become adept at reading the stoic warrioress's subtle body language and unspoken thoughts. But all his experience thus far left him painfully unable to decipher what Dinobot's continued lack of response meant - whether for the positive or negative. Had his words somehow struck a cord with the taciturn femme, or had he unknowingly just put himself in danger of an early termination?

So it was a complete surprise when Dinobot seemed to finally shake her neural circuits back into working order and with no warning leaned off the berth to capture his mouth once again in a hungry, almost predatory kiss.

Rattrap didn't think. Didn't even pause to wonder what drove the warrioress's actions as he eagerly leaned down to meet Dinobot's mouth with his own. He was not about to question the motives behind his partner's actions when he'd been secretly fantasizing about such a thing happening for longer than he felt comfortable admitting.

Dinobot pushed herself off the berth to press her lips harder against Rattrap's, as though desperate to close the tiny gap separating her from the smaller spy. Before either 'bot could fully contemplate what was happening the two were locked in a passionate, almost desperate embrace, faces mashed so close together that someone observing them would have been hard pressed to say where one ended and the other began.

Rattrap didn't even attempt to contemplate what he was doing as he hungrily leaned down to meet Dinobot's questing mouth with his own. Servos reached to wrap behind shoulder plates to draw them closer together. Fingers clawed at the back of necks and back struts. Rattrap was dragged down almost flat against Dinobot as the warrioress in turn leaned up off the berth to press herself against the smaller Maximal's chest plates. Derma plates glided against each other, pulling and persistent in their search. Dinobot's teeth nipped at the bottom of Rattrap's lips, almost gnawing at the tender strips of metal as Rattrap tentatively stretched his glossa out between their intimate connection to glide against Dinobot's own.

An involuntarily growl rumbled the warrioress's chest as she reciprocated and tilted her head back to allow Rattrap deeper access to her oral cavity. Rattrap wasn't sure when it happened exactly but his optics slid shut to better experience the unexpected assault of stimuli to his mouth and body. Dinobot's claws raked up and down his back in slow dragging passes, as though trying to physically meld the smaller Maximal's superstructure with her own.

Rattrap cycled heavily as he and his partner simultaneously - almost instinctively - tilted their heads in opposite directions of each other, allowing for deeper access. As if some alien presence were controlling his actions, Rattrap's one hand reached down and curled around the back of Dinobot's neck, drawing her face closer to his. Dinobot reciprocated with a sharp nip to his bottom lip. The faint taste of mech-fluid spread through his mouth before it was quickly lapped away by Dinobot's dominant, invading glossa. His other hand had already slipped under Dinobot's back to pull the upper portion of her body towards him up off the berth. The warrioress, meanwhile, had craned one arm up to wrap around the back of his neck and looped the other around his waist to draw him down over her like some kind of living blanket.

Glossa slid against each other in slow, languid passes while lips kneaded and rolled against each and teeth hungrily nipped at soft derma plating.

Lost in a sea of unexpected sensations, Rattrap didn't even bother to think about what he was doing or what this meant for his relationship with the raptor. All he cared about was somehow closing the almost nonexistent gap between himself and the battle-hardened warrioress. Lost in the sensation of Dinobot's glossa curling up to run along the top of his mouth cavity, Rattrap's one servo blindly groped along the warrioress's front plating as if with a processor of its own to cup one mound of exoskin in his palm and squeeze it firmly between his fingers. Dinobot involuntarily arched into his hand, a low growl of carnal hunger rumbling deep inside her chest.

A jolt of unadulterated lust shot through Rattrap's systems to the very core of his spark. He'd never even in his wildest dreams imagined being caught in such a pleasurable position, let alone with the one he'd merely fantasized about from afar for almost as long as he could remember. And to have her pressing, arching, _straining_ against him as though desperate for his physical presence and touch was almost too much for the Maximal spy to comprehend. All he wanted was to press himself tighter against her, to somehow merge their bodies together into one harmonious being. To actually feel her spark pulse alongside his own and know that is was because she wanted him. Only him. Only _his_ presence as he pressed the proud and noble warrioress down against the berth and-

*Chirp_* Rattrap, come in. This is Optimus. I need you to come to the bridge ASAP for an emergency system check of Sentinal. I know you're watching over Dinobot, but you're one of the only ones cleared for this kind of diagnostic. I don't want to take any chances in case Megatron decides to try and retaliate for our little attack on the Darksyde. I'll have Airazor come and take your place in med-bay until you can return. It shouldn't take long._

Rattrap and Dinobot sprang apart at the chirp of Rattrap's comm link as though they'd been electrocuted. The two stared at each other, cycling hard for air as if they'd just finished running a parsec-long race.

"Um… yeah. Yeah, I'll be right der…" Rattrap shakily said into the link.

_Good, _Optimus's voice crackled over the external comm. _See you soon._

Rattrap and Dinobot continued to stare at each other with wide unreadable optics, neither saying a word.

"Um… so I, ah… hafta go," Rattrap finally found the voice to stammer, blindly stumbling to his pedes and backing away from Dinobot's berth, suddenly desperate to escape. "I'll, ah… I'll see yeh later, I guess…" His one knee accidentally smacked against the corner of his chair as he scrambled backwards. It toppled to the floor with a loud, metallic clang. "I-I'll get dat later," he babbled, not even stopping to set it upright again as he shakily continued to back away from the warrioress.

Then, not even giving Dinobot time to respond, the spy turned tail and ran from the room as though Unicron himself was following close on his heels. He didn't even look back over his shoulder as he darted from the room, his lips still tingling with the raptor's lingering taste and his spark pulsing wildly against the insides of his rib struts…

_To Be Continued…_

So next chapter will be the last of "Masters of Their Fate." It may or may not be posted under a revised M rating. I so badly want to try my hand at an in-depth love scene, but I'm still toying around with the idea. Any thoughts?

In any case, the next update will be awhile in coming. I'm heading to Thailand for Christmas holiday next week and don't plan on doing anything more productive than barbequing myself in the sun. Any thoughts, comments or suggestions for what you'd like to see in the next and final chapter are always welcome and encouraged.

P.S. Links for new illustrations of "Masters of Their Fate" are available for your viewing pleasure on my profile page. Enjoy. Oh, and don't forget:

PLEASE REVIEW! They motivate me so much, after all…


	11. Out of Patience

Okay. I unintentionally lied. _Next_ chapter will be the last one. The general consensus was that Dinobot deserved a section of her own to get a glimpse into her own point of view, which I wholeheartedly agree with and was already planning to do in any event. It just went a little bit longer than expected, so the "last" chapter was cut in half.

**Chapter Eleven: Out of Patience**

Dinobot moved swiftly through the Axalon's lower passageway, the heavy _thud-click_ of her footsteps echoing down the long empty corridors into the distance. The warrioress walked straight and tall, her stride stiff with purpose and optics bright with determination.

It had been three days now since she'd been rescued from Megatron and brought back to base. Despite the CR chambers being unable to do anything to combat Tarantulus's neural serum, she'd recovered fairly quickly, all things considered. After waking from her drugged stupor in the Axalon's med-bay and her rather startling encounter with the smallest member of her adopted faction, she'd been able to return to her personal quarters later that same day to recover in peace far away from the presence of any prying optics.

She'd spent the next solar cycle and a half feeling slightly groggy and just overall… off, but had refused to let herself tolerate such weakness and forced herself to return to duty the very next day after her inglorious return. Optimus had tried to convince her to return to her rooms to rest, but relented when Dinobot finally reached the end of her proverbial limit and snapped at him to leave her in peace so she could do her duties. The transmetal gorilla had said nothing more on the matter after that and left her to herself which, unfortunately, was more than she could say for some of the others of the crew…

The newest Predacon-defectors, Blackarachnia and Silverbolt, had begun their assimilation into the crew. The black widow kept mostly to herself and generally scorned anyone else's attempt to talk to her - something Dinobot understood perfectly well. When she first join Primal's crew, her new Maximal comrades and their foreign ways had at times been almost too much for her to bear. It had taken a long time before she had felt comfortable enough (or even had the smallest desire) to spend any more time with her crewmates than what was strictly demanded of her.

Although Dinobot had never cared much for Blackarachnia one way or the other due to their different allegiances until just recently, she felt a subtle, unbidden connection with the female spider. Whether that was because they were both ex-Predacon femmes amongst Maximals or because it had been Blackarachnia who had ultimately helped her escape from Megatron, Dinobot felt indebted and bound by honor to somehow someday repay the black widow for saving her from an unspeakable fate.

The new mech, Silverbolt, however, was experiencing no such difficulties adjusting to his new faction. With a determination and zealous sense of chivalry that bordered on embarrassing at times (albeit honorable in its sincerity), the transmetal fuzor had devoted himself to Optimus and the Maximal cause, thus earning himself almost an instant place amongst the crew.

But while Dinobot had only had to put up with Blackarachnia and Silverbolt's presence from a distance thus far - the two too busy with other things to bother her (not that she was complaining in any way, mind you), Airazor had been a completely different story…

Dinobot's ordeal with Megatron seemed to have struck some kind of cord in the female flier. While in med-bay, Airazor had stationed herself beside Dinobot's berth after Rattrap had fled; anxiously insisted on helping her back to her quarters even when Dinobot had snapped that she was more than capable of walking by herself; and the next day seemed to always being hovering somewhere on the edge of Dinobot's peripheral vision like a mother hen. Ever since, the flier had become an almost constant presence by her side - whether it be to ask her a meaningless question or to make some absentminded comment about the weather, the female scout was always somewhere close.

Dinobot at first had been outraged that Airazor seemed to think she was still too weak to care for herself and needed constant attention like a sparkling. The incident with Megatron had bruised Dinobot's pride enough without someone constantly reminding her how incapacitated she'd been to have to rely on her comrades to save her. The second day after her return, she had been on the verge of snapping at the flier to just leave her alone already when she'd come to the sudden and unsettling epiphany that Airazor was not actually trying to humiliate her with her continued hovering, but rather was trying to start a tentative friendship with the raptor.

The idea of friendship was still a slightly foreign concept to Dinobot. Friends were a rarity amongst Predacons, especially casual ones. Because to establish even a passing relationship with another required an element of trust; and trust was not something Predacons just doled out to every 'bot that came along like Maximals seemed to do. Trust had to be earned. If anything, trust for the average Predacon was just another tool to manipulate or exploit. So to have Airazor innocently seek her out for no other reason than a desire for company and light conversation unnerved Dinobot slightly. Perhaps not so much that the soft-spoken flier was trying to bridge the gap between them, but rather that she couldn't find it in her spark to dissuade the other femme more strongly.

_Frag…_

The Maximals and their idealistic ways were rubbing off on her in more ways than she ever suspected. If she wasn't careful she was going to go soft around the edges - something a warrior could not afford to do.

Her latest encounter with Megatron was proof enough of that…

Dinobot wasn't even aware she'd begun to growl under her intakes until she felt her chest armor begin to literally vibrate against her substructure. Disgust wasn't a strong enough word to describe how she felt about what had almost happened. When the Vermin had told her what Megatron had been planning to do - how he'd intended to force her into a Sparkbond while she'd been unable to do anything to stop it - made Dinobot almost queasy to the coolant tanks. Her claws unconsciously curled into two shaking fists by her sides. The angry _thud-click_ of her footsteps ricocheted against the metal walls and reverberated down the corridors like the echo of consecutive grenade blasts.

That slagger… That Pit-spawned honorless excuse for a 'bot… She would take nothing but the greatest joy in tearing the spark from Megatron's chest cavity for what he'd tried to do. How dare he. How _dare_ he assume she'd ever sell herself for wealth or power; let alone to a 'bot like him. She had fought too long and too hard for her to consider dishonoring everything she'd sacrificed to overcome the prejudices and double-standards levied against her sex. How could she have ever looked at herself in a mirror again if she'd accepted Megatron's offer (tempting though it might have been for that one brief nano-klick of time)?

The answer was that she never could have, even if the offer hadn't come from a mech as reprehensible and morally repugnant as Megatron. But to think that Megatron had been about to force a Sparkbond on her - had almost enslaved the very essence of her being to him in a way she could have never escaped from except through death - made Dinobot's circuits run cold with subdued, mech-fluid-freezing horror.

It had been close. So unsettling, frighteningly close… If Optimus and his crew hadn't shown up when they did they might have been too late to do anything to stop the tyrant.

Dinobot's pace slowed and came to a shaky halt in the middle of the hallway. She had to take a deep intake to compose herself as the ramifications of what had almost been (not for the first time) made her processor hitch with a minor surge of panic.

Her… bonded to Megatron. The mere thought of it made a thin film of condensation break out across her artificial raptor skin. What would she have done if the worst had actually happened? She would have been unable to fight off Megatron's advances. Would have been physically bound to the warlord in a way that her own life would have depended on his continued existence. Would have been slave to him in every single way that mattered to a sentient being. She would have probably terminated herself to escape the horror of such a fate, but the idea of having her spark being defiled and honor tarnished in such a way nonetheless sent a stab of cold straight through the battle-toughened femme's core.

If Optimus and his Maximals hadn't arrived when they did…

Dinobot couldn't bear to follow that line of code any further and so abruptly cut it short. After all, it did no good contemplating what could have been. Only what she could have done differently to avoid being caught in such a situation in the first place. Disgust once more surged through Dinobot's circuits. But this time not towards the Predacon warlord, but towards herself.

It had been so close and she only had herself to blame for it. She had let herself become captured in the midst of battle and taken prisoner. Then, not only had she failed to defend herself or earn an honorable death on the battlefield, she had allowed herself to be goaded into a reckless attack and injected with a powerful unknown chemical.

Unacceptable. Disgraceful. She was an embarrassment to her caste. She didn't care what the garbage-eating rodent said, she should have been stronger. A true warrior would have never allowed herself to be captured in such a shameful manner or put into a situation that her very honor and reputation had been put at stake. Even now, several days after her rescue, she couldn't understand how her fellow Maximals could stand to look at her. They'd seen how weak she could be. She couldn't imagine how she'd appeared when they'd found her: incoherent, shaking and so pathetic looking the _enemy_ had actually taken pity on her. Dinobot felt like she could deactivate from shame. How could they bear to keep her among them? Yet day after day they continued to interact with her as if nothing had happened, as if they didn't care that she'd disgraced herself so badly and were (Primus damn her to the Pit) actually _happy _to have her back. She couldn't understand it. It made no sense! The only explanation she had was that it was just another example of how the Maximals let their softer programming rule their logic. The rodent had said that he didn't care what had happened. That he didn't think any less of her and still respected her.

Dinobot's actuator hitched slightly at the memory and was loathe to admit it was not in an entirely unpleasant way. That tiny fool… What did he know? The mouse was nothing more than a pestilence ridden nuisance. What should his opinion matter to her?

Apparently more than she'd thought if how much Rattrap's words had affected her as she'd laid there in med-bay sick to the coolant tanks and too weak to sit up was any indicator…

She'd been more than a little shocked to drift awake and find Rattrap of all 'bots sitting by her berthside as though he was actually in some inconceivable way worried about her. She'd been startled at first by his presence but had refused to read any real meaning into it. Maximals were strange when it came to injured comrades. Half the time the entire crew seemed to wait with bated intakes until each and every member was safely out of the CR chambers. But to hear Rattrap say what she'd secretly wanted to hear more than anything else from another 'bot had almost been too much for Dinobot's groggy circuits to process: to be told that her disgrace, even if it was only from a Maximal's rosy-colored view of the world, was not her fault. That she was not to blame for what had almost happened. And then when he'd leaned down with absolutely no warning to smash his lips down against her own as she'd vented her frustration and self-disgust…

Dinobot felt her spark pulse faster at the memory. Dear Primus above in Nirvana, where the _frag_ had _that_ come from?! Even now three days after the fact, the memory still managed to make her fuel lines pump faster and her circuits fritz in confusion.

The rat had kissed her! _Her!_ His self-proclaimed enemy and living embodiment of everything he loathed and hated in the world.

To say she'd been surprised by Rattrap's kiss would have been an understatement. From the moment she'd joined Primal's crew the tiny spy had never treated her as anything more than a hated enemy. Vicious insults and the occasional physical blow had become so commonplace between them that Optimus had all but given up trying to get them to work together. Dinobot had lost count of the number of times she'd come within nano-klicks of tearing the annoying little rat's head right off his shoulders.

But to say she hadn't enjoyed that kiss (startling though it might have been at first) would have been a complete lie. Dinobot was loathe to admit it but she'd begun to develop feelings for the rodent. Before she'd been forced to reveal her true identity she'd begun to slowly tolerate Rattrap's presence more and more as time progressed and Optimus forced them to work together more often. It burned her to the core to admit it, but Primus damn her if some small part of her hadn't begun to actually look forward to their frequent clashes. Rattrap was the only one amongst the crew of Maximals that dared stand up to her. All the others were either too intimidated, passive or soft at spark to challenge her. Even Primal himself more often than not refused to respond to conflict with aggression and rather tried to resolve things through diplomacy and patience. Dinobot was pretty sure if it hadn't been for Rattrap and their shared animosity, she would have gone insane her first few months with the crew before she'd become more acclimated to their peaceful ways.

The vermin was annoying, stank of garbage, possessed the worst speaking mannerisms she'd ever heard and was infuriating to the point of conjuring up thoughts of violent murder in her on an almost continual basis. But despite all the spy's shortcomings Dinobot could not deny the rat possessed some other redeeming qualities: his resourcefulness; his sly, calculating intelligence both in battle and in their verbal spars; his loyalty to his commander and friends; and the occasional hint of the spy's own personal (albeit questionable) code of honor.

Despite his stunted size, Rattrap consistantly managed to hold his own in battle. It was rare that the spy ever returned to base in need of major repairs. Granted he often resorted to slightly less honorable methods of fighting than Dinobot normally would have approved of, but the fact remained that he was a skilled and reliable fighter in his own right. Nor had it escaped Dinobot's notice that despite all the vermin's frequent whining about his and everyone else's imminent demise, he never ran when battle was upon him or when one of his crewmates was truly in need of assistance. Despite all his complaints and ingrained sense of self-preservation, Rattrap was almost always one of the first to help a friend in need.

If that was not a sign of a belied sense of honor buried somewhere deep in the rat's neural codes nothing was…

Dinobot vented a heavy cycle of air. She hated herself for feeling such things, but there was no denying she found Rattrap's cocky attitude and pessimistic sarcasm unexplainably attractive. He was different from almost every other mech she'd ever met. Most mechs, both Predacon and Maximal, treated her like a second-class being. From her youngest stellar-cycles she'd fought to earn a place amongst Cybertron's mech-saturated population. But always, no matter how hard she worked or how much precious metal or energon she shed, it was never good enough. It didn't matter if she could best almost any 'bot - whether mech or femme - in hand to hand combat or was more intelligent than half the mechs that were continually promoted to positions of authority over her, she was always seen as inferior to her masculine counterparts. Never an equal. Even those that claimed they didn't let gender-programming affect their logic would at some point betray their bigotry. After so many decades of discrimination and unrewarded effort Dinobot had begun to wonder if her race's bias wasn't actually some line of code written into every Cybertronian mech's basic programming. It was this dawning sense of disillusionment that had eventually prompted her to seek out ways to escape the cageless prison of social restraints and begin her transformation to a mech.

But Rattrap… Even after discovering the truth of her gender, the vermin did not try to assert power over her. He did not try to order her about or question her abilities or suddenly think himself better than her. Even after her capture and embarrassing subjugation at Megatron's hands, the rat remained respectful towards her. Fearfully respectful, perhaps. And rightly so. Although that respect did not seem to extend to his dirty jokes and backhanded snide remarks, he did remain respectful to her when it came to her skills and prowess on the battlefield…

Despite a rocky start immediately after the quantum surge, when all was said and done and everything taken into account Rattrap still treated her the exact same way he had before she'd been forced to shed her damaged mech armor and reveal her true identity.

Or at least until the tiny spy had decided to swoop down and capture her lips in a searing kiss…

Dinobot unconsciously reached up and pressed the tips of two claws to her mouth, as if to simulate the memory of the smaller bot's lips against her own. Primus… it had happened so fast she hadn't known how to react. Not only had Rattrap (the living bane of her existence!) just kissed her, but he had done so with passion and reckless, lustful desperation. Almost as if some long denied desire had finally overrun any line of logic the mouse might have had and unceremoniously prompted him to act.

But perhaps more startling had not been Rattrap's kiss, but rather the intensity of the desire stirred inside Dinobot's own systems by it. For longer than she cared to admit, Dinobot had begun to acknowledge the unbidden attraction she felt for the smaller 'bot. Long before she'd been forced to shed her false identity she had recognized her budding feelings but kept them suppressed out of fear of her secret being discovered. Not only had there been no guarantee how Rattrap would have reacted when he discovered the truth of her programming, emotional attachments were not becoming of a warrior of either gender.

Or at least that was how Dinobot tried to rationalize it...

In any case, she'd never detected any hint that the spy saw her as anything more than a reliable comrade in arms. She tried to ease the sting of hopelessness and unrequited carnal desire with the knowledge that even if Rattrap did know about her true programming, he still wouldn't have wanted anything to do with her. He'd always been more than vocal about his views of those of Predacon ancestry. What would a Maximal like him want with a displaced Predacon criminal like her?

The answer had come dishearteningly quick to the warrioress and left her feeling distinctly hollow inside and shamefully spark-heavy. No doubt the vermin had a significant other waiting for him back on Cybertron. A _Maximal_ significant other. And even if he didn't, Dinobot couldn't have risked decades of secrecy for one reckless dalliance she wasn't even sure guaranteed her any kind of physical gratification. No, it was best not to pursue such hopeless causes. Especially one in which she could potentially lose everything she'd worked so hard to achieve over the last few decades of her function.

But then, just when Dinobot was about to dismiss these confused feelings as nothing more than momentary glitches and rededicate herself to a life of stringent warrior monasticism, the rat had lunged forward and sealed his lips over hers in a graceless, desperate kiss. Dinobot remembered very little of the details of what Rattrap had said after he'd leaned back from over her and spoke. All she really remembered was the general idea of what the vermin was trying to express: that he didn't blame her for her disgraceful encounter with Megatron; that she was not unwelcome amongst Primal's crew; and that he still _respected_ her.

As the emotions behind Rattrap's impromptu speech slowly sank into her stunned processor, Dinobot was almost certain she'd officially lost control of herself then. It was like having the rat make the first move had removed the last excuse Dinobot had to restrain herself from succumbing to her own desires. Warrior's code be damned! Even if she'd wanted to, she doubted she would have been able to fight the surge of unbridled desire that had flooded her circuits. All she really remembered was the overwhelming need to smash her lips back against the tiny spy's and devour him. She vaguely recalled mustering her strength to lean far enough up off the medical berth to capture the vermin's mouth once again in a brutal kiss, then pulling him down overtop her so that she might better plunder the smaller 'bot's mouth.

Everything after that was a blur. She remember running her claws up and down Rattrap's back which made the spy shudder and squirm enticingly above her. She remembered the vermin's small hands groping along her superstructure - rough, clumsy and rapacious in their desperation, but, oh, so welcome and gratifying. She remembered the sharp sting of rodent incisors against her dermal plates and the slippery hot feel of glossas gliding against each other in a fevered war for dominance.

Dinobot felt her internal systems involuntarily kick over and begin to run hotter just at the memory. Primus, the rat had tasted almost sweet. If she'd been just a little bit stronger she had no doubt she would have grabbed him right then and there and flipped him over down onto the berth beneath her. It had been so long since she'd been touched or felt the pulse of another living spark beside her own. But even after so long a time hiding under a shell of mech armor she still remembered the sensations and pleasure that could be garnered from the ministrations of another 'bot. And, Primus, how sinfully delicious those spy's hands had felt against her superstructure… Rubbing, teasing, tweaking. It was almost as if the rat knew just where and how to touch her to stimulate her more sensitive sensors.

Dinobot wasn't sure how far they would have gone if Optimus hadn't called Rattrap over the comlink at that exact moment, but she was uncomfortably aware she hadn't been processing with a full motherboard at the time. She'd simply been following her instinctual, more animalistic impulses. All she'd been able to think about was pulling the vermin closer. Of wanting to pin him to the berth beneath her and make him squeal in throaty passion as she showed him just what a Predacon femme was capable of.

But just as she'd been about to do so, Optimus's voice had unceremoniously shattered the moment and brought both her and her unexpected berth-partner slamming back to reality and flying apart from each other.

Rattrap had seemed just as stunned as she had been by the mutual passion that had fueled their brief but intense tryst. As the haze of lust had slowly dissipated Dinobot was unable to think of anything to say or do in the wake of what had just occurred. As much as she'd secretly hungered to taste and feel the tiny spy, the sudden realization the feeling was in some still-undefined way returned was slightly unnerving. She'd spent too much time believing there was no chance of reciprocation that the truth was almost too startling for her to accept. As much as the warrioress hated to admit weakness in any way, she'd almost been grateful when Rattrap stammered a weak excuse and promptly fled the room. Dinobot had spent at least fifteen minutes laying there in a stunned daze staring after the spy before Airazor finally appeared to distract her from her confused thoughts.

That had been three days ago and she still had yet to have any opportunity to confront Rattrap about what had happened. It was almost as if the rat was avoiding her. Whenever they passed each other in the control room, the spy made such an obvious attempt to ignore Dinobot as he made a hasty exit that the raptor couldn't help but feel slightly resentful for Rattrap's passive rejection.

Dinobot growled softly under her intakes. Such treatment was unbecoming and disrespectful. Especially when it was the vermin who had started this whole convoluted affair in the first place. She had been more than willing to dismiss her feelings as glitches of temporary insanity and continue on as if she couldn't care less one way or the other for the smelly rodent when the annoying little slagger had gone and kissed her out of nowhere!

Resuming her trek through the Axalon's inner corridor, Dinobot's angry footsteps thundered down the narrow passageways. If Dinobot acknowledged one personal flaw of hers it was her impatience. After three frustratingly long and emotionally draining days, she was sick and tired of waiting for the rodent to come to her and explain himself. She was not going to hide from this anymore. She wanted answers, and she wanted them _now._ Preparing herself the same way she would before rushing headlong into battle, Dinobot was bound and determined to get an explanation once and for all. Did Rattrap really want her, or had his actions been born out of nothing more than some twisted Maximal concern for an injured comrade? Whether for good or bad she wasn't going to be put off anymore. She was going to get the answers she sought even if she had to physically beat them out of the pestilence ridden mouse.

A number of identical looking doors appeared on either side of the hallway up ahead: the start of the crew's personal quarters. Dinobot swiftly directed herself towards the second one on the left. Barely even coming to a complete stop, the warrioress raised one curled fist and pounded it against the reinforced steel door in four consecutive, thundering blows. There was a brief pause before she heard the muted shuffle of movement from the other side. Another moment of tense impatience before the door finally swung inwards to reveal Rattrap staring back at her with a startled look of horror from the other side of the threshold.

The rat wasn't hiding from her anymore…

To Be Concluded…

Good? Bad? Ready to kill me yet for making you wait to find out what happens next? Feedback is always accepted and appreciated in any event.


	12. Author Announcement

**Author's Note****:** The final chapter of "Masters of Their Fate" can be found on my profile page as a separate story. I disliked the idea of changing the rating on the entire story just because of one chapter. So I made it its own separate entry.

Also, check out my profile for links to recent sketches and illustrations for this and several other of my fics if you're so intrigued.

Signing out  
-LAXgirl


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